


Hold on to your heart

by Oywiththepoodlesalready



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Future Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:16:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oywiththepoodlesalready/pseuds/Oywiththepoodlesalready
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She bites at the ragged edge of her thumbnail and taps her foot against the restlessness that starts in her toes and works its way up to her heart at the thought."</p>
<p>Lizzie finds something she is not supposed to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Years later, after it was all in the past and just a story to be told at family gatherings, Lizzie would insist that it had all started with a coincidence. Although people tended not to believe her, throughout the years, she remained adamant on one fact:

She hadn't meant to pry. _Really._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

It was just that she was feeling lonely. William had been gone on yet another business trip to Chicago, the third one in the span of six weeks, and since Lizzie woke up that morning to an empty bed and a piercing headache that made her want to duck her head into a bucket full of ice water (which probably wouldn't help the headache _at all_ , but you know, the _thought_ felt good...), she was feeling kind of cranky and in desperate need of some comfort.

So, naturally, that meant going through her boyfriend's closet in order to find that one college hoodie he only ever wore when the responsibilities weighing on his shoulders became too heavy and he needed to just be _young_ for a day. (Which usually meant staying in bed until three and never putting on real pants. Or any pants at all.)

She is trying to figure out just how pathetic it would be to just call him and ask for it, when the tip of her left pinky skims something so soft that there is no doubt in her mind as to what it is. Between layers and layers of stiff dress shirts, an old sweater worn soft by years of snuggling does have the tendency to stand out. 

Triumphantly, she tugs it out from the far end of the shelf and immediately wraps herself in it. When she pulls it over her head, she sighs contentedly, enveloped in the familiar scent of him. It's entirely too big on her, almost reaching her knees, but whatever, that just means _no need for pants today_.

She carefully rearranges his shirts back into what she assumes to be his manner of organization and trots back to the kitchen to get another cup of tea for a lazy afternoon of Disney movies on the couch. As she stares out at the rainy city, waiting for the water to boil, she stuffs her freezing hands into the front pocket of the sweater, only to stop cold when her fingers touch something hard. 

And … _velvety?!_

Her body goes into shock mode before her mind can even begin to process her findings, her hammering pulse deafening in her ears and definitely not helping with the headache.

She freezes on the spot, doesn't dare move her fingers an inch. It's not before the kettle's shrill whistle that she regains some semblance of power over her movements. 

Her fingers close over the small object and gingerly pull it into her line of sight. 

She takes a steadying breath when she goes to open what she accurately assumed to be a jewelry box. 

The breath in her lungs whooshes out of her all at once, making her struggle for air.

 

_William Darcy, you cannot be serious._

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

“Lizzie, calm down. Don't make a big deal out of this.”

Lizzie just groans and keeps on pacing the length of the kitchen.

“But it is a big deal!” she exclaims, throwing the hand that's not currently plastering the phone to her ear in the air for emphasis.

Charlotte sighs and Lizzie can practically hear her best friend rolling her eyes at her through the phone.

“You don't know that. It could just be his mother's ring that he's had for years. You said it looked kind of old and antique...”

_Not to mention gorgeous..._ The thought shoots through her mind unbidden and Lizzie quickly shakes her head, dismissing it.

“Why on earth would he keep that hidden in his sweatshirt instead of his mother's old jewelry box with the rest of it?”

Charlotte seems to ponder this for a moment, so Lizzie starts opening up cupboards at random, on a quest to find something crunchy to alleviate some stress with. She grumbles at the range of options before her. Organic cereal is not going to cut it, damn it! She really ought to make him buy the sugary, crispy kind one of these days.

“Fair enough. Maybe Gigi put it there in hopes of you finding it and Darcy proposing out of embarrassment?”, Charlotte giggles, not even trying to hide her obvious amusement at Lizzie's current state of distress.

Lizzie snorts and reaches for some almonds. “Even for Gigi, that seems a bit...convoluted. However, if my _mother_ had access to this apartment...” Shuddering, Lizzie decides to leave that particular train of thought unfinished. Her head is still pounding.

“Well, maybe it's not even yours. Maybe it was meant for someone else but it didn't work out and now he doesn't want to look at it anymore?” Charlotte supplies and Lizzie stops mid-chew.

Well, now that just sounds plain... _wrong_.

She bites at the ragged edge of her thumbnail and taps her foot against the restlessness that starts in her toes and works its way up to her heart at the thought.

However much she fears the ring being hers, she finds that she fears it _not_ being hers much more.

Lizzie struggles to find words but Charlotte being Charlotte, she can read everything Lizzie is too afraid to admit in the silence that hangs between them.

“Would it really be the worst thing, Lizzie?” 

Charlotte speaks tentatively, softly, but Lizzie still startles at her words.

“We haven't even had our first anniversary, Charlotte. That's not...”

“How you planned it?”

Lizzie picks at a loose thread on William's shirt instead of answering, but Charlotte knows anyway.

“Lizzie, just because some things don't work out the way you think they're supposed to, that doesn't mean it's not the way they're _meant_ to be.”

Lizzie wiggles her toes and bites at her nail. Charlotte sighs.

“Just...put the ring away and try not to think about it too much, okay? I'm sure it doesn't even mean anything right now.”

Lizzie nods and mumbles a quick goodbye to her bestie, then hangs up.

She curls up on the bed, engulfed in the scent of Will's sweater, puts the closed box on the nightstand and lets it stare at her for the rest of the night.

The next morning, she gingerly wraps it back up in the sweater and stuffs it as far back into the closet as it will go.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Lizzie knows Charlotte is probably right, so she gives not thinking about it her best try.

 

She doesn't think about it when she comes back from work two days later to an apartment smelling deliciously of grilled steak and the bizarre picture ofWilliam Darcy, back from his trip a day early, barefoot and humming along to Taylor Swift playing on the radio while chopping carrots. 

 

She doesn't think about it when, a week before Christmas, William defiantly picks up the phone to ask her mother for an additional place setting for Gigi, because as much as it thrills him to be spending Christmas with Lizzie for the first time, he has never been apart from his sister on this holiday and he is not about to start now.

 

She certainly doesn't think about it when she finds him huffing in the living room, sweating and cursing while trying to move his enormous couch; the coffee table and the rug already piled up neatly against the wall next to the TV in preparation of Lydia's much anticipated visit to San Francisco. 

 

(He promised her top-notch sock sliding conditions and William Darcy is nothing if not true to his words.)

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Charlotte's voice chanting “...and Lizzie Bennet is in denial “ keeps playing on repeat in her mind at night, mere seconds before she falls asleep and when she awakens to a blur of white silk and pink roses, thinking about it seems inevitable._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

She spends Valentine's day in a curious mix of anticipation and dread. She can't really help thinking about it then.

She tenses up every time he reaches into his pockets and by the end of the night, he has noticed her skittishness and she is starting to get irritated by the frequency with which he checks his phone or the watch she now knows he keeps in his pocket at all times. 

Later that night, she takes her sweet time undressing him and feels almost lightheaded with relief at the absence of anything box-shaped in the pockets of the dark grey suit he wore to dinner.

Other than that, when she listens to his slowing heart beat under her ear in bed later, she has a hard time putting her finger on the myriad of emotions keeping her from sleep.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

By the time their one year anniversary rolls around, she barely thinks of anything else.

For the last week, she has been biting her nails so hard that she is seriously considering getting a manicure for a second before she resolutely dismisses the thought. _Better to keep any further encouragements to a minimum._

 

(One of the main reasons why Lizzie is so terribly afraid of William proposing is the way her mind shuts down when confronted with actually having to come up with an answer. She calls Charlotte in a frenzy a week before their anniversary, hoping her rational reasoning can pull her back from the ledge of insanity she is precariously balancing on:

 

“How do I tell him _not yet_ without him breaking up with me?”

 

The silence that follows makes Lizzie ponder if maybe this conversation would be better suited for Jane, but then, she decides, she doesn't need to be cuddled right now. Blunt honesty is what she needs and that is one thing you can always count on Charlotte to provide.

 

“I don't think you can.”

 

Honest and to the point.

 

“That man has wanted to marry you since...hell, probably before he knew you called him a robot for the world to see. I don't think he's going to recover from another rejection.”

 

The truth stares Lizzie right in the face and however much she wants to just close her eyes and deny it, terrifying as it is, she forces herself to stare right back. 

 

Because, if she's being honest with herself, no matter how much she fears driving him away by saying no, what she fears the most is saying yes out of desperation and hurting him more in the process.)

 

So although she makes an effort to look nice for him, she consciously avoids wearing anything that holds a special meaning for them (most importantly: anything green and lacey) and covers her fingers up with rings she lends from Gigi that are way too glitzy for her taste. William looks mildly curious at her unusual choice of jewelry, but seems to think better about commenting on it and instead whispers words of adoration into her hair as he walks her to the car.

At dinner, Lizzie blatantly refuses anything served in a champagne glass and, to William's obvious amusement, instead orders a Gin Martini. 

 

(She absolutely _hates_ it and the smile that tugs at the corners of his lips tells her that it shows, but she downs the glass with as much grace as she can muster and he doesn't say a word.)

 

For dessert, she tries to decide which treat is least likely to have a diamond ring baked into it and although she desperately craves the chocolate soufflé, she settles on the crème brulée instead, hoping that no-one in their right mind would expect her to don a ring that has just literally gone up in flames.

She is right, of course, and the crème really is tasty, but as she enviously sneaks a glance at William savoring every bite of the chocolate souffle _he_ had no reason to refuse, she grips her spoon a little tighter and thinks: _This is getting ridiculous._

 

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

_After that, Lizzie decides that the craziness has to stop. There is only so much she is willing to give and, god damn it, she draws the line at chocolate._

_Anyway, she figures, with all of those special occasions presented to him on a silver platter, if he had planned on proposing somewhere in the near future, he would have done it by now, so she puts the thought out of her mind and instead concentrates on getting her company off the ground._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Work is grueling and exhilarating, exhausting and fascinating, and it takes up most of her waking time, so it's a few months before the ring that lays buried at the back of the closet crosses Lizzie's mind again. 

She has just wrapped on a project and is floating home on a cloud of happiness and exhaustion, so she wants nothing more than to jump her boyfriend as soon as she steps foot in their apartment, but the look of surprise he gives her when she rounds the corner into the living room pulls her up short.

 

He looks mildly embarrassed and makes a half-hearted attempt at covering up his laptop screen before he sighs and gives up a fraction of a second later.

“Sorry, you weren't supposed to see this”, he explains apologetically while he lowers his hands back to his lap.

Lizzie blinks once, twice, takes a step forward and stops, confused.

 

He is looking at engagement rings. Currently there are two pictures pulled up on the screen, very beautiful, delicate rings with gold bands, one with a single round-cut diamond, the other with more of a tear-drop shape, embedded within several smaller stones.

The picture that presents herself is pretty self-explanatory, but she struggles with it anyway. 

 

“Wha-...is tha-...uh..” she sputters pathetically, then clamps her mouth shut. 

 

_Why would he be looking at rings? He already has the perfect one picked out and hidden in the next room!_

 

Her ears are buzzing.

William looks concerned as he waits for Lizzie to find her words:

 

“I don't...why...?” 

 

The ability to string words together to form a coherent sentence seems to have eluded her, so she decides against speaking and instead just looks at him, confusion and a hint of panic painfully visible on her face.

 

William just stares at her for a minute, dumbfounded, then chuckles mirthlessly and visibly deflates.

 

“Wow. That's...nice. Bing asked me for my opinion on which ring to buy. For Jane. So...no need to panic.” 

 

He quickly minimizes the pictures and stares at his hands for a moment. 

 

“But good to know where you stand.” 

 

He glances up at her at that and she thinks she sees a glimmer of disappointment in his eyes before he stands up and moves to the kitchen.

Lizzie opens her mouth desperately but no words come out.

She wants to wipe the frown off his face, reassure him somehow, but she stops and closes her mouth when she realizes she doesn't know what to tell him. 

 

She doesn't know where she stands, exactly, but she knows it's not yet where he needs her to be. 

 

So instead, she tells him the only thing she knows with absolute certainty to be true.

She walks up behind him, wraps her arms around his middle from behind and presses her face between his shoulder blades.

 

“I love you”, she murmurs into his shirt.

 

She doesn't say it nearly as much as he does, so she isn't exactly surprised at the way his muscles soften almost immediately at her confession. 

 

“And I'm sorry, you just caught me off guard.”

 

At that, he turns around in her arms and presses a light kiss to the top of her head.

“It's okay”, he sighs and for a moment, she feels like there is more that he's not saying but then he puts on a happy face, takes her hand and tugs her over to the computer still buzzing on the coffee table. 

 

“Now that you already know, how about you help poor Bing out?”

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

When Jane visits six weeks later with a big rock on her finger and a soft smile permanently tugging at her lips, Lizzie can't help the twinge of envy at the easiness with which her sister opens her heart to happiness and heartbreak alike.

 

“Are you happy?” she whispers into the dark that night, her freezing feet tucked against Jane's warm calves.

The sisters had declared their need for an old-fashioned slumber party at dinner earlier and Lizzie had called up Fitz to take their men out for a night on the town.

At the question, Jane's hands stop braiding Lizzie's hair for a moment and she sighs. 

 

“Happier than I ever thought possible. How could I not be? I found the man I want to spend the rest of my life with and now I get to start.”

 

Jane's voice is full of emotions and she grabs Lizzie's hand under the blankets and squeezes it tight.

 

“But you must know how I feel,right? You found him too.”

 

She says it with so much conviction that Lizzie's eyes start to sting. 

She wants to tell her big sister that although her mind agrees, she's afraid her heart might never be ready to take the leap.

But the words won't come, so instead she squeezes back really tight and stares unblinkingly into the darkness.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Yes, envy seems like the appropriate word._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The second chapter started to get really long, so I decided to split it and let you guys have the first half. Enjoy! :)

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_It's not until Charlotte bluntly calls her out on it that Lizzie realizes her heart might be softening towards the idea without her noticing._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

Longbourn Media has just wrapped on its first official year in business and the company is throwing a huge, rather swanky gala (Lizzie has been told to refrain from calling it a _party_ ) to thank the employees and investors for their continued support.

The hors d'oeuvres and ice statues don't exactly scream _fun_ for her, but this is mostly meant to represent the company and show that she is capable of being mature and professional despite her young age, so she donned a floor-length robe of emerald green silk that makes it very hard for her to do anything else than stand still if she doesn't want to risk tripping in front of some _very important people_ and plasters on a smile.

The real party is planned for later that week and since she rented out a karaoke bar for the event, she busies herself with plotting which song Gigi and her are going to trick William into singing, all the while nodding amicably at whatever the old guy in front of her is droning on about.

Her cheeks are really starting to hurt and her hand feels sticky from the endless row of polite handshakes, so she thanks the heavens that Charlotte seems to sense her distress and swoops in to save her.

 

“Dear God, I thought I would never get out of there. I can't feel my hand!” Lizzie moans and gratefully accepts the glass of white wine Charlotte wordlessly hands her.

 

“Yes, I'm sure it must be terrible. Your own company at twenty-six and dozens of investors swooning over you, what a burden!”

 

Charlotte looks at her pointedly and Lizzie just rolls her eyes at the teasing.

 

“Yeah, because you are struggling _so_ hard, Miss Big Shot.”

 

Charlotte just smiles and pokes Lizzie in the upper arm.

 

“I am not the one complaining.”

 

“Okay, okay”, Lizzie relents, giggling and swatting Charlotte's hand away. “It's not so bad. It just...gets really boring after a while.”

 

Charlotte chuckles at that and nods knowingly. 

 

“Yeah, it does.”

 

They stand in silence for a while, contentedly sipping their drinks and surveying the room. All of those people, dressed up to the nines, here because of what _she_ accomplished. Sometimes, Lizzie still expects to wake up from this dream her life has become.

 

“By the way, where's your arm candy? Isn't _he_ supposed to save you from dying of boredom?” 

 

Lizzie snorts at the notion of William Darcy being “arm candy”, but then, she _did_ spend an embarrassing amount of time picking out his bowtie with the express purpose of showing him off in mind, so maybe Charlotte is not _entirely_ wrong. 

A grin tugs at her lips as she remembers some of the jealous glances women have been throwing her way all evening, but frowns when she realizes she hasn't actually caught sight of William in quite some time.

 

“I...don't actually know. He was going to get us drinks, but that was...wow, forty minutes ago”, she notes with a glance at the giant brass clock hanging at the opposite wall of the ballroom.

 

Charlotte's eyebrows shoot up in surprise and together, they search the crowd for her lost boyfriend.

 

“Damn it, he's probably stuck in a corner, getting talked into investing in some kind of sketchy project. He's _really_ not good at talking himself out of those”, Lizzie mutters under her breath and squints to make anything out in the distance. 

She has taken to wearing Will's glasses sometimes when she is tired and lines start to blur together, but until now, she has vehemently resisted any attempts of his to get her eyes tested. 

(And yes, part of it is that she doesn't want to admit she's getting older, but another, slightly bigger part is the secret thrill she gets from wearing something that is so obviously his (they are _way_ too big on her) out onto the street for the world to see.)

 

“Or maybe he's getting talked out of dating the illustrious Lizzie Bennet, now that she's getting old and losing her eyesight.”

 

Lizzie scoffs at the jab, but dismisses it in light of more pressing issues and instead clutches at Charlotte's arm, demanding:

 

“Where?”

 

Following Charlotte's pointing finger, she can almost make out her boyfriend leaning against the wall next to the bar, cornered there by a blonde woman, who, Lizzie grudgingly has to admit, looks rather stunning in her sparkly red dress.

 

“Ugh”, is all she can muster at first and Charlotte giggles at the way her face scrunches up into a very immature expression of disgust.

 

“What is she doing?!” Lizzie exclaims then, rather loudly and Charlotte rushes to shush her.

 

“Lizzie, you're supposed to show people how mature you are, remember?” 

 

Charlotte speaks out of the corner of her mouth and elbows her in the ribs, while still smiling and nodding appeasingly at the people eyeing them curiously.

 

“Yes, but look at her! Could she be any more obvious?” Lizzie continues in a more subdued fashion but still wags her finger at the blonde in a very child-like manner.

 

Charlotte follows the finger to where the woman is now dragging a very red nail down William's chest and playing with the buttons on his dress shirt and raises an amused eyebrow.

 

“I think obvious is what she's going for.”

 

Lizzie makes her disapproval known with a very unsophisticated grunt and crosses her arms tightly over her chest.

 

“God, sometimes I wish I could just tattoo it all over his forehead. _Hands off, this one is_ _ **mine**_ _._ ”

 

She huffs and shakes her head, but stops when she sees Charlotte looking at her disbelievingly. 

 

“What?”

 

Charlotte just shakes her head and chuckles.

 

“Honestly, Lizzie, for someone who is so damn terrified of her boyfriend proposing, you're awfully possessive.”

 

Lizzie doesn't like the obvious enjoyment Charlotte seems to be getting out of this, so she haughtily retorts:

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

 

Charlotte is now openly laughing at her.

 

“Seriously? Tattooing it onto his forehead? I can practically hear you singing _Put a ring on it.”_

 

She shoots Charlotte a look that is supposed to make her stop laughing, but it only seems to make things worse. 

When Charlotte finally manages to sober up enough to catch her breath, she finds Lizzie staring intently down to where her shoes are hidden under her dress. She sighs and pats Lizzie on the back reassuringly.

 

“You, my friend, are so far gone and you don't even know it.” 

 

 

But Lizzie decides that she likes not knowing and instead of answering to her best friend's inquisitive stare, trudges over to where her boyfriend obviously needs rescuing. 

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

_Sometimes, there are days when Lizzie stumbles over calling him her boyfriend._

_It seems so juvenile, too trivial to aptly describe the way his presence has seeped into her life, slowly molding itself to her edges, filling up the cracks that never healed and making her forget there was ever anything she lacked._

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

Today, a dreary Thursday in early November, with the cold wind tangling her hair into a knotted mess at the back of her head as she drags herself up the last bit of steep hill towards their apartment, turns out to be one of those days.

 

As soon as she opens the door, she knows he's already home. His shoes are neatly placed side by side against the wall and as she toes her boots off and flings the keys onto the side table, she can make out soft voices coming from the living room.

She pads over to where he sits on the couch, his head in his hands and a phone to his ear. 

 

“I know it's scary.”

 

His voice is soft and serious and Lizzie doesn't think he has heard her come in. 

There's a pause while he listens.

 

“I know. I wish I could tell you it's all going to work out fine, but you're not a child anymore and you know saying it doesn't automatically make it true.”

 

Another pause and he nods along to whatever is being said and rubs a hand over his face.

 

“Everything that really matters in life is scary. It just means you have something to lose.”

 

Lizzie is pretty sure he is talking to Gigi, he has that soothing tone he always adopts to talk her down from whichever edge she is teetering on and she steps closer to make her presence known.

 

“Trust me, sometimes, the fear and the pain and the waiting...it is all worth it in the end.”

 

Lizzie hears the emotions in his voice plainly and now she definitely feels like she is encroaching on a private conversation, so she lightly taps him on the shoulder.

 

He startles at the touch and jumps right up from his seat, furiously blushing as he smiles at her apologetically.

Lizzie shakes her head to let him know it's okay and gestures at the door.

“I'll just be in the kitchen”, she mouths to him and moves to go, but he holds up a hand to stop her.

 

“Your sister just came home, should I put her on?” he says into the receiver and then: “Yes, you too. Take care, Lydia.”

 

Lizzie just stares at him, dumbfounded and he has to physically thrust the phone into her hand to get her to take it. 

She opens her mouth to ask, but she doesn't know where to start and instead just blinks at him. He shrugs one shoulder and blushes an even darker shade of red, then turns towards the kitchen and closes the door to give them some privacy.

Lizzie shakes her head and plops down onto the couch heavily, slowly bringing the phone to her ear.

 

“Lydia?”

 

“Hey sis. Gotta tell you, that mancake of yours, he's … a pretty good guy.”

 

Lizzie can only stare at the door he just disappeared through, absolutely astonished by this turn of events.

 

“He is”, she finally croaks. “You talked to him about all that?”

 

She had known her sister and William were on friendly terms since they talked out all of the Wickham drama, but never in a million years would she have imagine _this_.

 

“Yeah, well, you weren't there yet and he was. Plus, he has the very unique viewpoint of someone who has put himself out there and has both been rejected and accepted by, surprisingly, the same girl.”

 

Lizzie rolls her eyes at that, but a smile tugs at her lips. Good to know her quirky little sister is still there, despite the serious topic of discussion.

 

“Haha, very funny.”

 

“I'm just saying, he knows what it feels like, both ways. And he's the living example that sometimes, it's worth the risk. He got you after all.”

 

Lizzie swallows hard at that. How had she ever believed this girl to be shallow?

 

“Sometimes, I don't know how I deserve him. Or you. And he's right, you know? You deserve to be _so happy_ , please don't let fear hold you back.”

 

She cradles the phone in both hands and wishes she could hold her baby sister and give back some of what she refused all of those years. 

 

“I won't”, Lydia answers and Lizzie can hear the smile in her voice. “But you don't either, sis, okay?”

 

Lizzie doesn't really know what she's agreeing to, but she hears herself do it anyway:

 

“Okay.”

 

After they have said their goodbyes and hung up, she sits still for a moment, holding the phone and suddenly Lizzie thinks that she might have to talk to Charlotte about giving away secrets that aren't hers to tell. 

 

But right now, the only thing Lizzie really feels like doing is kissing her _boyfriend_ senseless for being a big brother to her little sister, so she throws the phone onto the couch and heads off to the kitchen.

 

 

_(Sometimes, she stumbles over calling him her boyfriend. Today is one of those days.)_

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

_She has become ridiculously good at not thinking about it, so there are extended periods of time where it actually slips her mind that there ever was a ring to begin with._

 

_It makes the backlash pretty brutal._

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

“Soooo?” 

 

Jane's smile is infectious and brightens up the crowded little coffee shop as soon as she walks through the door, so Lizzie can't help but grin along even though she arks an eyebrow at the strange conversation starter.

 

“Soooo...what?”

 

“Let me see your hand!” Jane practically squeals and expectantly holds out both her hands over the table. 

 

“Ooookay.” Lizzie relents, eyes narrowed suspiciously, but reluctantly raises both her hands for Jane to inspect.

 

Jane almost instantly deflates at the sight of them and her eyebrows scrunch together in disapproval.

 

“Where is it?”, she demands in what Lizzie likes to call her Fashion Week-voice.

 

Lizzie lets her hands fall to the table in confusion.

 

“Where is _what_? Jane, what is going on?”

 

“The ring, where is the ring?”

 

Jane is looking at her as if she wants to chide her for playing dumb, head cocked and brows raised and Lizzie is about to demand answers, when... _oh. That._

 

She sighs. 

 

“No ring, Jane. Nobody proposed. But seriously, is there _anyone_ Charlotte didn't tell?”

 

Now it's Jane's turn to look confused.

 

“Wait, what has Charlotte got to do with anything? I just figured that was the reason you wanted to have lunch today.”

 

Lizzie cocks her head to the side and speaks very slowly.

 

“No, I wanted to have lunch because you were in the area and I figured we could use the time to start planning the bachelorette party...”

 

“Oh.” Jane looks mildly embarrassed and shoots Lizzie an apologetic little smile. “That is so nice of you, Lizzie.”

 

Lizzie chuckles a little at that and nods.

 

“I know. So what about the ambush?”

 

Jane blushes an adorable shade of pink and shrugs her shoulders.

 

“I don't know, Bing and I just figured, with your second anniversary only last week and Valentine's just before that...and then you called to ask me to lunch and you wouldn't exactly tell me why and I just....I'm sorry, Lizzie. I shouldn't have assumed anything.”

 

Jane looks honestly contrite and Lizzie reaches over the table to pat her hand reassuringly.

 

“It's okay. Besides, you're not the only one. Charlotte called me four times last week alone. But, to be honest, I've been so busy with work and William was gone on business over Valentine's Day...we just stayed in on my birthday and ordered Chinese.”

 

Lizzie shrugs nonchalantly and sneaks a hand over the table to steal a piece of scone off Jane's plate. 

 

“That's it?”

 

At the bewildered look on Jane's face, Lizzie just shrugs again and pops the piece of scone into her mouth.

 

“That's it.”

 

 

 

_(What she doesn't tell Jane, what she doesn't even like to admit to herself is this:_

 

_Christmas dinner at the Bennet house has always been a peculiar affair. The combination of eggnog, food and nostalgia reliably seemed to steer her mother towards delicate subjects._

 

_Like relationships. Marriage. Grandchildren._

 

_Lizzie had been feeling quite confident about this year's dinner; with a newly engaged couple and Lydia's new boyfriend Jonathan at the table, she was expecting to remain relatively unscathed._

_What she wasn't expecting is William agreeing with her mother._

 

“ _I just think it's lovely that the two of you are so in love you just couldn't wait any longer to be married! Don't you agree, William?”, her mother is gushing and Lizzie is just about to interject to save him from having to answer when he speaks up, softly._

 

“ _I agree. It's lovely.”_

 

_His eyes are downcast and he is fiddling with his napkin, seemingly deep in thought and Lizzie isn't sure what just happened, but her mother at least seems to be satisfied with his answer and is already trying to strike up a conversation with Jonathan._

 

_She is just about to turn back to the discussion at hand and dismiss the moment as meaningless, when out of the corner of her eye, she sees Gigi grip her brother's hand and squeeze it tight. The corners of his mouth twitch and he squeezes back and suddenly Lizzie feels like she is witnessing a private moment of sisterly support._

 

_She doesn't really comprehend what it means then and doesn't dwell on it any further, but when there is no formal dinner on their anniversary, no champagne and no ring, her mind flashes back to that moment of silent compassion at the dinner table and she finds that she is not exactly surprised. )_

 

 

 

 

 

Jane sighs audibly and shakes her head at her sister's obvious lack of interest in the wedding business, when suddenly her head shoots up as she remembers something.

 

“Lizzie? There's something you're not telling me. What is it Charlotte's not supposed to tell anybody?”

 

Suddenly uncomfortable, Lizzie winds herself on the hard wooden chair and tries to escape Jane's inquisitive stare, but her sister has learned a thing or two in New York's harsh fashion business.

She grabs Lizzie's arm and forces her to stop squirming.

 

“Lizzie...?”

 

Groaning, Lizzie reluctantly admits defeat and leans back in her chair, arms crossed defensively.

 

“Fine. I found a ring in William's closet, a year and a half ago, I think. But he has never mentioned it and I haven't checked if it's even still there and anyway, it could not even be what I think it is...so. There you have it. It's... not a big deal”, she finishes lamely and braces herself for the onslaught of questions that is sure to follow.

 

But Jane just sits there, a small satisfied smile on her lips and honestly, it freaks Lizzie out more than any number of questions could. 

 

“Not a big deal? Oh, Lizzie, I'm so happy for you.” 

 

She reaches over the table to hold Lizzie's hand, but Lizzie just crosses her arms tightly over her chest and shifts uncomfortably.

 

“Lizzie?”

 

Lizzie just shakes her head and looks at her sister pleadingly. Jane sighs and sits back in her chair.

 

“I really don't get what you're so scared of. You love him. You live with him. You keep protecting your heart but I really don't know from whom anymore. From him?” 

 

The answer is so sudden and fights its way out of her throat so forcefully that it chokes her on the way out.

 

“No!”

 

Lizzie blinks, startled at her own ferocity and the look on Jane's face tells her she's not the only one.

 

“Well then, maybe it's time to stop.”

 

This time, when Jane reaches for her hand, Lizzie lets her and squeezes back tight. 

 

They sit there quietly for a minute, each lost in their own thoughts, until Lizzie can't take it anymore and claps her hands, grinning wickedly at Jane.

 

“Now, about that bachelorette party. What are your thoughts on strippers?!”

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Over dinner later, she watches him fastidiously fold the salad leaves with his fork, because_ you simply cannot cut lettuce _and when he looks up and smiles at her, she lets her mind flash on Jane's words._

 

_Maybe it's time to stop._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no fluff, I'm sorry, but Lizzie is proving to be very difficult about this ;)  
> As always, I hope you enjoyed and thank you to everyone who has already commented, you guys rock! :)


	3. Chapter 3

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Naturally, William and Lizzie are appointed to best man and maid of honor, so they are involved in_ a lot _of the planning and although Lizzie doesn't know much about this kind of thing, she suspects that this is more about Jane trying to show her_ there's nothing to be afraid of _than actually needing their advice every single step of the way._

 

_Suffice it to say, it is not exactly helping Lizzie get over her wedding-induced anxiety._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

There are dresses to pick, measurements to be taken, caterers to test, seating charts to be arranged, candlesticks to choose and more often than not, Lizzie staggers into bed in a haze of flowers and veils and _which mascara won't smudge?_ and falls asleep to a mantra of _never ever ever_ _ever_ _again in a million years..._

 

_..._

 

Cake sampling is actually the one thing Lizzie has been looking forward to in all of this craziness and even that turns out to be a disaster. They keep wavering between chocolate-raspberry and red velvet and Lizzie _really_ loves cake, so it takes a while, but eventually six different types of frosting, half a pound of butter cream and all the pent up stress take a toll on her already riled-up stomach. 

William is there to hold her hair back as she retches into the toilet and she distinctly thinks about calling Jane to tell her she will have to step down from maid of honor business because her body is actually _physically_ rejecting it, but her throat hurts and _the floor looks so comfy,_ so instead she stretches out on it and doesn't move a finger even as she hears William whisper about her in hushed tones in the other room. 

 

The next morning, Jane is on the phone to tell her they settled on white chocolate instead and the biggest part of planning is behind them now and Lizzie doesn't believe a word she's saying, but she nods and smiles and accepts Jane's gratitude anyhow and gives Will a big smoldering kiss over breakfast.

 

...

 

But there is still a suit to buy for William and she really wants to be the one to pick out what he will be wearing when she walks down the aisle towards him, so she tags along with him and Fitz even though he keeps telling her there's no need. 

She regrets her decision almost as soon as he disappears into the dressing room, because _the whole world has conspired against her_ and Fitz is pulling out wedding dresses that he thinks will look just _magnificent_ on her.

 

“Fitz, no!”

 

She swats at his hands as he holds up some hideous concoction of taffeta and tulle and squints to see what it would look like on her.

 

“Come on, Lizzie B, this looks fabulous on you! And I'm pretty sure Darcy, my man, will be pretty - “

 

“Fitz, stop! Put those away! I'm not the one getting married!”

 

She rips the dress from his hands and stomps over to one of the racks and tries her best to squeeze it in there somewhere, but the tulle skirt keeps popping out and she finally just pats it ineffectively one last time and surrenders.

 

“Not yet, my friend. Not. Yet.”

 

Lizzie turns to glare at Fitz but he is already back to sifting through the dresses and with a groan, she decides to flee and goes to hide in William's dressing room.

He seems mildly amused by her antics but doesn't question her sudden need to watch him change and she enjoys the few minutes of content quiet before Fitz rats her out and she is banned from the dressing rooms by a very serious-looking saleswoman who tuts at her condescendingly.

 

 

...

 

And then there's the bachelor / bachelorette party. Since Lizzie didn't really feel like dealing with any more wedding stuff than absolutely necessary, she mostly deferred to Lydia's _epic_ party planning skills on this one and that is how she ends up perched on a bar stool in one of the nicer karaoke bars in Manhattan, listening to Lydia and Gigi rocking the Spice Girl's “If you wanna be my lover” on stage and sipping on her strawberry daiquiri. It's all fun and drinks and bad singing until next thing she knows, there's a police man towering over Jane, demanding to see her license and Lizzie can distinctly remember telling Lydia _No strippers!_ but Jane's eyes widen comically and that in itself makes it worth the embarrassment of having to watch. The stripper is a good ten years older than them, hairline receding and skin wrinkled and cracked-looking from years of tanning obsessively and the show that follows is not sexy in the least, but hilarious as hell. 

While Jane is giggling madly on the chair that has been pulled to the middle of the room for her to sit in while she receives her _“present”_ , Lizzie's phone buzzes in her pocket and she excuses herself from the spectacle to take the call.

 

She leans against the sticky bar top, smiling as she sees the Caller ID.

 

“Hey you, how's it going over there?”

 

She hears him sigh melodramatically and puts her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle.

 

“Terrible. Fitz has insisted on dragging us to a strip bar, which I honestly don't understand, because there is not one male stripper for him here. But, alas, he did and so I will have to spend my night staring at half-naked girls trying to climb up a dancing pole in a somewhat dignified manner. I'm sorry. I tried telling Fitz that _my girlfriend will not be amused ..._ “

 

The way his voice moves away from the phone indicates that he is hollering the last bit to someone in the distance and Lizzie giggles.

 

“...but obviously, he didn't believe me”, William ends, dissatisfied.

 

“Well, why would he? Your girlfriend is so unbelievably cool, she doesn't mind at all. Especially since Lydia also got us a male stripper to stare at all night. So I guess we're even”, she cheekily replies and hears him chuckle at that when...

 

 

“ _Hey Lizzie! Tell the Darcenator to get off the phone and have some fun! I've instructed Jonathan to buy him a drink on me, so...get on that!”_

 

Lizzie can't help but snort at that, pretty sure Lydia's voice carried enough for William to catch the gist of it.

 

“Lydia says hi.”

 

His chuckle reverberates through the phone and makes Lizzie want to call it a night right then and there.

 

“So I've heard. Now if you'll excuse me, Jonathan is waving ecstatically at me from the bar. Tell Lydia thanks. I love you. Have fun with the stripper.”

 

Lizzie throws a look back to the show that's still unfolding on the dance floor and grins.

 

“Oh, I will. Love you too. Now go get 'em, tiger!” 

 

 

...

 

He comes back to the hotel much later than she did and Lizzie is already asleep, but he is not exactly quiet so she's awake by the time he finally stumbles into the bedroom, more than a little bit buzzed and she watches him amusedly. It's cute, actually, the way his hair sticks up every which way and his tie hangs loosely around his neck, knot askew and top buttons undone. He fumbles with the rest of the buttons on his shirt for a moment, then, with a small huff, seems to give up and only pauses slightly once more to toe off his shoes before crashing face-first onto the bed next to her. 

He reaches for her waist blindly and brings her to his chest, humming contentedly.

He smells mildly of beer and something stronger, but his face scrunches up adorably in concentration and Lizzie reaches out a hand to stroke his hair.

 

“Did you have fun with the boys tonight?”

 

He makes a noncommittal grunt and shrugs one shoulder.

 

“Mhm. Drinking was nice. But I didn't like the naked girls though. They were all blonde.”

 

Lizzie laughs at the slight whine in his voice and smooths his hair down in a soothing manner.

 

“Maybe it's time for bed, big boy.”

 

William nods sleepily and yawns.

After a minute, his breathing evens out somewhat and she is almost sure he's already asleep, when he nudges her with his nose and murmurs:

 

“Lizzie? Please don't make me have strippers when we get married.”

 

He is barely awake and so adorable in his pleading that Lizzie laughs softly, kisses his temple and whispers:

 

“Oh, sweetie, I won't make you do anything you don't want, I promise.”

 

 

_(And she's almost sure that he's already asleep when she says it, but despite the massive hangover that she_ knows _he has, his dimples show all through breakfast and Lizzie finds that she rather likes the view.)_

 

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_What finally tips the scales in the end is something entirely wedding-unrelated._

_Which makes sense, in a way, Lizzie realizes, because this, all of this, is not really about a wedding at all._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 

It's a rainy sunday afternoon outside and they are spending it lazily snuggling on the couch. Lizzie sits between William's legs, her back propped up against his chest and up until two minutes ago, they were both quietly reading a book. She is still trying to, but William has let his book fall to the floor and is now idly playing with the tips of her hair and it's making her lose her focus. She is just about to turn around and do something about it when his phone on the coffee table rings.

He maneuvers around her to grab it without having to extricate himself from Lizzie and when he sees who is calling, puts it on speaker phone.

 

“Hey Gigi”, they greet in unison and they hear her rummaging around on the other end.

 

“Hey guys. What'cha doing?”

 

“Nothing. Just lying on the couch, reading”, Lizzie answers for them and giggles at William pointedly grabbing her book and flinging it onto the floor alongside his.

 

“Wow, you guys are so lame.”

 

He hides his face in her hair, so she feels his chuckle reverberate all through her skull and it's really distracting.

 

“Well then, please, brighten our day by telling us what the cool kids are up to these days. How was your weekend?” Lizzie manages to ask and she seems to have hit a nerve, because Gigi is off on a rant in mere seconds.

 

“Ugh I went on a date yesterday with this guy I met at Starbucks a few weeks ago and it was just awful! I mean, it started out fine, he was nice enough and he didn't try to grab my ass when we hugged and he held my car door open, but when we got to the restaurant...”

 

Lizzie snuggles closer to William and starts lazily tracing patterns on his knee as Gigi goes on and on about how he pronounced the names of the dishes really pretentiously and how he ordered her drinks for her without even asking and how he didn't tip the waiter _at all_ and how he got up in the middle of the conversation to take a phone call and then came back in a really bad mood and didn't say two words for the rest of the meal and the well-practiced way William hums and nods to various parts of the story tells Lizzie that this isn't the first time his sister has called him to rant on about her dating life. 

 

By now, William has abandoned playing with Lizzie's hair and proceeds to press feather-light kisses just beneath her ear and she feels his lips curve into a smile against her skin as she starts to squirm against him. 

 

“And then, when we got to the movies, he put his hand on my knee before the lights even dimmed and that after he only talked about his ex-girlfriend for the last hour!...”

 

Lizzie drowsily revels at how gratifying this feels, snuggling on the couch with your boyfriend while listening to other people complain about how utterly frustrating dating can be and happily congratulates herself on snatching him up when she had a chance to.

 

She laughs along with William to all of the funny bits and hums sympathetically to the little disasters dating life brings and overall feels really warm and cozy and content sitting here in William's embrace, listening to Gigi's story unfold.

 

And this is when she realizes: she feels like an outsider listening in on a story that's hilarious to her _because it doesn't pertain her_. 

 

She is content to just sit and listen and she doesn't feel the need to offer up some of her own stories about dates gone horribly wrong like she would have three years ago. 

Hell, Lizzie doesn't even feel like she _has_ stories anymore. 

 

This, she realizes with a strange feeling of serenity slowly settling into the pit of her stomach, is not how she sees her life anymore.

 

_Lizzie Bennet has officially retired from the dating game._

 

Her heart flutters at the thought, so she turns around and kisses William softly on the lips and if Gigi notices them falling quiet, she doesn't comment on it.

 

 

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_The first wedding they attend together as a couple is, surprisingly, not the one her mother has been calling about twice a week recently._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

More than that, they don't even realize that is what's happening until some strange woman steps up in front of them and thanks them for _gathering here today on this special day._

Lizzie feels Gigi's fingernails digging into the skin of her forearm and William's eyebrows have shot up straight to his hairline and all Lizzie can think is: _My god, those presents are_ _all wrong now._

 

It's Fitz's birthday and he has ominously invited them to a _fancy dinner party style thing, so dress accordingly!_ at an old warehouse that has a lot of open space and naked brick and large, towering windows that illuminate the scene before them beautifully and really, that invitation should have been their first clue. 

 

When William is called up to the makeshift stage to pose as best man, Lizzie is left holding up an already sobbing Gigi and trying very hard not to laugh at the way his chin tucks back into his neck as he awkwardly takes his appointed place.

The ceremony is short and sweet and entirely void of the obvious, much-overused phrasing that typically seems to accompany this type of thing and Lizzie has to untangle one of her hands from Gigi's vice grip to wipe away some tears of her own as Brandon and Fitz pledge their love to each other and exchange rings. 

 

After the ceremony is over and everybody has had a chance to congratulate the couple, the event quickly dissolves into a raging party with flashing lights and a steady bass matching the thump of Lizzie's heart and if she hadn't just witnessed the ceremony, she would never believe this to be a wedding. There is no formal seating (actually, except for a few couches to catch your breath on after the obligatory dance-off with Fitz, there is no seating _at all_ ), dinner ranges from tacos to bratwurst to sushi in an astounding international display of _who needs plates when you have fingers?_ and instead of a wedding cake there is an ice cream bar, which Lizzie and Gigi, already high on sugar and euphoria, swiftly declare to be the _best idea ever!_

 

 

An hour or three later, William is being dragged away from a pouting Lizzie to do “best man stuff” which, as it turns out, means doing shots of Jägermeister with the happy couple, and Lizzie and Gigi lean against the bar, happily slurping mojitos in a much-needed break from the dance floor.

 

“This is easily the best wedding ever!” Gigi exclaims excitedly, still hyped up from round three of their extensive visits to the ice cream bar. 

 

Lizzie nods wholeheartedly while fishing for the straw in her drink with her tongue.

 

“It's also the best _party_ ever. So...double awesome.”

 

Gigi clinks her glass to Lizzie's in concurrence and some of its content sloshes out of it and onto Lizzie's shoes, but whatever, this is the best wedding ever and the floor is already sticky anyways. 

They lean back and watch the couples spinning around on the dance floor when Lizzie catches sight of William in the far corner of the room. Even from thirty feet away, she can see the muscles in his throat ripple as he downs a shot to Fitz's cheering and Brandon's amused smile and Lizzie unconsciously licks her lips at the view.

 

“Your brother is looking _fine_ tonight, Gigi...” she hums without taking her eyes off him.

 

Gigi chokes on her drink and makes a small gagging sound, wiping at her mouth sloppily with the back of her hand.

 

“Ugh, Lizzie, please don't talk about my brother like that. In front of me.”

 

Lizzie just smirks and shrugs her shoulders.

 

“Well he is. All smoldering and awkward and sexy. I like it.”

 

Gigi wrinkles her brow and looks between Lizzie and her brother, stupefied. 

 

“That...wow. You did _not_ just say that. I knew you were perfect for each other, but being turned on by his awkwardness? Whole new level of perfect.”

 

Lizzie giggles happily and they grin at each other for a moment before Gigi narrows her eyes at Lizzie and wrinkles her nose.

 

“But please stop now. Your looks are making me uncomfortable.”

 

Lizzie feels a blush creeping up her neck but can't find it in her to care enough to tear her eyes away from where her boyfriend is just loosening his tie, so she just shrugs and keeps on grinning.

Gigi, obviously deciding to distract herself from all of the staring, starts chattering then and points out some of the more bizarre styling faux pas currently on display on the dance floor. 

 

“I mean, zebra print, seriously? That is so nineties.”

 

“And, ugh, what are those shoes? Did he just skip over the word “fancy” in the invitation?”

 

And, eventually, with a sputter of her drink and a sound somewhere between laughter and sob:

 

“What _is_ that? OMG, I bet she always wanted to be a bridesmaid and nobody ever asked her, so she just decided to buy herself the most hideous bridesmaid dress ever and look how ugly it is!” 

 

Gigi is practically squeaking with glee and Lizzie snorts at her excitement.

 

“Wow, Gigi, alcohol makes you _mean._ ”

 

“Well, it makes you horny, so...”

 

Lizzie narrows her eyes at her, but Gigi just winks at Lizzie before she turns and giddily points out her object of mockery twirling around to the music. 

 

“But just look at it! It's pink! It's glittery! It has _ruffles_!”

 

At that last one, Gigi seems to realize something and dramatically turns to Lizzie and clutches her arm, eyes wide and panicked.

 

“Lizzie! Just promise me one thing!” 

 

Lizzie, surprised at the sudden change in demeanor, quirks an eyebrow at the slightly crazy look in Gigi's eyes and briefly wonders if she should be afraid, so she decides to tread cautiously: 

 

“Ooo-kay?”

 

There's a dramatic pause before Gigi stage-whispers, her face dead serious:

 

“Promise me you won't force us to wear ruffles at your wedding!”

 

Lizzie snorts very ungracefully, but Gigi's face is still serious and her fingernails are really starting to dig into her skin, so she tries to swallow the laughter down.

The alcohol is still bubbling through her veins, making her feel warm and her skin tingle and her boyfriend is looking delicious over in the corner and his sister is pleading at her with her eyes, so the word tumbles out of her mouth without her realizing the implications of it:

 

“Deal.”

 

And as Gigi's face breaks out into a grin so big it threatens to split her face in two and hugs her hard, Lizzie finds that she doesn't mind the implications as much as she used to. 

 

 

 

_(And what she realizes somewhere between jumping around in a group hug with Fitz and Gigi and dragging a slightly tipsy William Darcy off to one of the couches to make out, is this:_

 

 

_This looks so little like an actual wedding that it makes her think Fitz and Brandon have it exactly right and this is not about the wedding at all._

 

_This isn't about her mother, obsessed with marrying off her daughters to the point where Lizzie learns to associate the words with disappointed expectations._

 

_This isn't about forty percent of marriages ending in divorce._

 

_This isn't about the boyfriend in her junior year of college who promised her forever, but seemed to think forever only lasted until the beginning of spring break._

 

_This isn't about her need to show the world that she is independent and self-sufficient and_ doesn't need a man to be happy _._

 

_This isn't about wanting to establish her company without the name of her successful, wealthy CEO-boyfriend attached to it._

 

_Because she can be all of those things and none of those things and what it all comes down to is this, and in the end, it's simple:_

 

This is about him and her and whether they want to build a future together and _it doesn't have to be anything they don't want it to be. )_

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_And what should have been the hardest part turns out to be the easiest._

 

_Because the only question that needs answering hasn't felt like a question to Lizzie for the longest time and everything else, they will figure out as they go._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 

 

So the next morning, when William has already left for work and the apartment is quiet except for the occasional sound of a car horn drifting in through the open kitchen window, Lizzie roots around the closet for his old worn college sweater.

 

She hasn't dared to do this for nearly two years, so Lizzie is not really sure what to expect, but as she gingerly puts her hand into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, the box is still there, laying innocently on her palm as if it hasn't been the source of countless fitful nights on her part over the last months.

 

She puts it down onto her nightstand where it sits in the early morning sunlight, taunting her to open it. Lizzie slowly sits down on the bedspread and folds her fingers in her lap, gnawing at her lip, but before she can let herself overthink this, she grabs the box and snaps it open.

 

She hasn't looked at it in so long and, to be honest, she hadn't gotten a good look at it back then either before she had snapped the box shut in a panic, so she is overwhelmed by its beauty for a moment. 

It's a delicate gold band and, judging by the filigree artwork going all around it, it definitely looks antique. There's a sparkling round cut diamond at the center, flanked by four smaller diamonds which are inlaid in a beautifully detailed design and it is so magnificent, it makes Lizzie's heart hurt.

 

She picks it up out of its velvet bed and holds it up into the sun. Perfect.

 

There's something inscribed on the inside of the ring and Lizzie tilts it into the light to decipher it.

 

_May 5, 1981_

 

So she was right all along. This is his mother's ring. 

 

And suddenly, Lizzie feels stupid, because really, this could just be him keeping it hidden until it's Gigi's time to wear it and then what? All of this agony over nothing?

 

_(Which in itself, is a stupid thought, she knows, because even if this ring is not meant for her, the look he gave her when she panicked at him picking out a ring for Bing speaks volumes about where he wants this relationship to go and the least she can do is figure out if she's willing to go with him.)_

 

Before she lets her mind spin out of control with questions a piece of jewelry will never have the answers to, Lizzie resolutely slips the ring onto her left ring finger.

 

 

_And it. Fits. Perfectly._

 

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_And it feels cool and heavy and unfamiliar against her skin but as she holds it up, it sparkles in the sunlight and the thought of wearing it proudly one day makes her heart flutter and she thinks:_

 

_I could get used to this._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...progress! :)  
> I actually struggled a bit with writing this, so if you could tell me what worked for you and what didn't, that would be a great help! Also, comments make me want to dance around in a circle, so... :)  
> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed! :)


	4. Chapter 4

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

_After that first time, Lizzie realizes that sometimes, stopping is much harder than starting._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 

At first, she only does it when she is feeling lonely. She puts the ring on her finger and walks around the apartment, watching it sparkle in the overhead lights in the kitchen and relishing the way it weighs her down and tethers her to the ground. 

 

The ring is a promise. 

A promise of a bright future ahead, a whole lifetime with William and it makes her feel safe, so she wears it when she needs to. 

 

But it spirals out of control and soon she is wearing it while she tries to bake scones for the first time, Jane on speaker phone and the ring on her finger as reinforcement. She wears it to the supermarket, to the hair dresser, she wears it when she talks with William on the phone when he's away on business trips and when she has her first really important international phone conference. 

 

(She draws the line at wearing it when her mother calls, though, because even as a rational adult, she cannot shake the feeling that her mother will somehow instantly _know._ )

 

She wears it so much that sometimes, she can feel the phantom press of the ring around the circumference of her finger and she only thinks about stopping when one day, she nearly gets caught. 

She has fallen asleep on the couch in the living room after a long day at work, the ring still securely on her finger, when she is woken up by William coming home and _thank god_ he bangs the door a bit louder than he usually does, because she has just about enough time to swiftly slip the ring from her finger and into her jeans pocket before he is leaning across the back of the couch and kissing her hello. She doesn't get a chance to slip away to the bedroom to put it back before dinner, so it sits in her pocket all through salad and chicken parmigiana, slowly burning a hole through her jeans and making her heart beat double-time and her palms sweat. 

 

(After that she feels so bad that she buries the box in the closet and doesn't look at it for two whole months. 

After all, she would never forgive herself if she were to pressure him into proposing only because she was too stupid to take the ring off, when all this time, he has been nothing but patient with her. )

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

_There's this game that they play._

 

_She doesn't even realize she's playing until she's smack in the middle of it, but it helps get her point across, so she doesn't see any reason to stop._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

“Mom, the alterations were two weeks ago, I'm pretty sure it still fits.”

 

“How the hell would I gain fifteen pounds in two weeks?!”

 

It's sunday and William has been looking forward to quietly reading his newspaper over breakfast all week, but with Jane's wedding only a mere two weeks away, Lizzie's phone calls with her mother have become increasingly entertaining, so the business section is instantly forgotten as he leans back in his chair and amusedly watches her pace the kitchen in frustration.

 

“What?! No, Mum, I'm not pregnant. Yes, I'm sure!”

 

William snickers at that and she turns on him instantly, eyes blazing and mouth agape in indignation at her boyfriend's audacity.

 

“Ugh, Mum, stop it. … I'm hanging up now! Bye!”

 

And with that, turns off the phone and throws it onto the couch, where it skids off the cushion and lands on the floor with a thud.

 

Smiling sympathetically, William holds his arms open wide and without hesitation, she crawls into his lap and buries her face in his shirt. 

 

“Uuuugh”, she groans against his chest and the sound turns into a whine at the end of the word.

 

“Please remind me to not invite my mom when we get married.”

 

She is looking up at him pleadingly and it's the first time she has said those words sober and wide awake and the _when_ nearly does him in, so he's tempted to promise her anything, but instead he kisses her on the forehead and strokes her back soothingly.

 

“But someone should be there to walk you down the aisle, don't you think?”

 

She hums into his chest and tilts her head up to grin wickedly.

 

“I didn't say we couldn't invite my dad...”

 

He snickers at her and cradles her close.

 

“I'm sorry to tell you, but parents _do_ normally come as a package deal.”

 

“But look at what she does to me! And I'm not even the one getting married! I'm not Jane, I won't survive her calling me every single day!”

 

“Well then we will just politely tell her that we don't need her help with the planning.”

 

The look she gives him reminds him eerily of the way her mother looked at him at Thanksgiving just before heaping his plate with another serving of the mashed potatoes he had just politely tried to refuse. It seems to say _It's cute how you think you have any say in this, but you don't, so stop trying._

 

As if on cue, she starts patting his cheek and coos softly at him:

 

“Aw, you big innocent baby, it's so adorable that you still think that's going to work!”

 

He quirks an eyebrow at her, but remembers Mr Bennet once telling him to pick his battles wisely and doesn't mention the similarities to her mother that are becoming painfully obvious in this interaction.

 

Lizzie is already back to brainstorming and scrunches her face up in deep concentration, tongue poking out at the corner. After a few moments of silent contemplation, her facial features even out and she sighs dramatically.

 

“Well, I guess we'll just have to turn off the phone then. It's the only solution. Otherwise there will be noone for you to marry when the day comes.”

 

And he knows she's being overdramatic and this is just her convoluted way of saying she is stressed out, but he likes this game they're playing and he's happy to play along a little further, so he hums contemplatively and presses a kiss to her hairline.

 

“I think it might be hard to plan a wedding without access to a phone.”

 

“Well you'll just have to marry me in a barn then, no planning whatsoever”, she giggles and his chuckle rumbles against the back of her head.

 

Humoring her, William sighs faux-miserably and murmurs into her hair:

 

“Tell you what, you let me marry you in a proper church, and I'll intercept every single phone call we get, just in case she starts calling from the neighbor's phone to avoid caller ID. Sound good?”

 

Although it's all hypothetical and they both know there's no way anyone will ever outfox her mother when it comes to weddings, the squeal she gives him feels strikingly real and she throws her arms around his neck and kisses her words into his skin.

 

“Sounds perfect.”

 

 

…

 

“You know what I just realized?”

 

They are on their way to meet Brandon and Fitz at their condo for dinner and since the minute they got into the car, he has been waiting patiently for her to speak up. He has had an inkling that she is in a weird mood ever since he walked into their apartment after work to find her staring at the wall with the phone still in her hand and the last five minutes of her looking silently out of the passenger side window have more than confirmed his suspicion.

 

He is just about to let her know he's listening when she continues on unprompted.

 

“Jane just told me she's going to take Bing's last name. I hadn't really thought about it before, but the Bennets are an all-daughters family. The name might just die out with us.”

 

At that, Lizzie turns to look at him and he takes a moment to contemplate her words and she can see he is more than surprised by the topic of discussion. He furrows his brow and opens his mouth slightly only to snap it shut a moment later and his silence tells Lizzie that he knows exactly this is not really about Jane and Bing and he seems to choose his words very carefully. 

 

He finally turns to her briefly and he still looks confused. He shakes his head quickly and turns his eyes back to the road in front of him.

 

“I don't really see the problem. You'll still be a Bennet after all.” 

 

Having expected something entirely different, Lizzie blinks and her brows draw together in confusion.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

His eyes are still on the road but Lizzie can see the dimple in his right cheek deepen and knows he is smirking.

 

“Well I always assumed you would keep your last name.”

 

At the incredulous look on her face, he cocks his head and elaborates:

 

“It just makes logical business sense. Your name has become a brand, it wouldn't exactly be smart to change it now.”

 

Old-fashioned as he normally is, Lizzie had always just assumed he would be expecting her to take his last name when they get married. She had steeled herself for an argument when approaching the topic, so now that there's no fight to be had, she can do nothing but stare at him in awe. 

William seems uncharacteristically smug and she realizes he probably knew exactly where she would stand on the issue and has decided to make it easy on her. 

 

She rather likes this playful version of him, so she leans against the passenger door and turns her body to face him. She cocks her head and smiles at him, teasing:

 

“Well, _Darcy_ is not exactly the worst name to have in this business either...”

 

A full-blown grin stretches across his face at her words and he tilts his head pensively at her.

 

“It is not. But I could just imagine what your investors would have to say to that. After all, we are still competitors, are we not?”

 

Lizzie feels her mouth stretch wide into a grin and reaches her hand out to tangle it with his on the steering wheel.

 

“Only in the strictest sense of the word.” 

 

They smile at each other for a moment before William has to turn back to concentrate on the road and they drive in companionable silence for a while, both lost in their own thoughts.

 

Lizzie stares out of the window for a moment, overwhelmed by how thoughtful he is proving to be. She is pretty sure it would thrill him to no end to see his name officially attached to hers, so him choosing to focus instead on what taking his name would mean to her, touches her more than she thought it would. 

 

It makes her heart swell and her stomach flutter and as she looks at him smiling contentedly at the road in front of them, she suddenly feels very generous, so she tells him:

 

“Maybe I'll just become a Bennet-Darcy. That way at least everybody will know right away which mother to complain to about those Darcy children... ” 

 

He squeezes her hand really hard at the mention of children and it hurts a little bit, but the smile that blooms across his face at her words is blinding and worth every bit of pain it took them to get here.

 

“I would like that very much.”

 

And she's not exactly sure which part of it he's referring to, but his voice is so full of emotions that Lizzie feels her eyes prickle and her heart lift up at the thought of him with a little dark-haired toddler on his lap and if they are half an hour late to dinner, neither of them cares. 

 

 

…

 

 

“What do you mean, the ring is gone?”

 

Charlotte's voice sounds tinny over the phone and for the millionth time, Lizzie wishes her best friend would still live three houses down instead of several hundred miles away because she could really use a hug right now.

 

“What does it sound like? It was there last week and now it's not!” 

 

Lizzie is pacing in front of the bed and she knows there's no excuse for snapping at Charlotte like that but William's sweater lies crumpled on the bedspread and she has just suffered a mild heart attack two minutes ago, so there's no room for rational thought.

 

“Okay then. I take it you haven't accidentally baked it into a muffin?” 

 

The amusement in Charlotte's voice brings Lizzie's pacing to a screeching halt and she holds the phone away from her ear to give it a withering stare that she hopes translates through whatever makes phones work. 

 

“Okay, okay. No more jokes. Jeez. … He's probably just getting it sized.” 

 

“Well I _hope_ that's not what he's doing because it fits pretty perfectly already.”

 

“Duh, obviously he's getting it fitted for his other girlfriend, you know, the one who actually waitsuntil he's _asked_ her to wear his ring...”

 

Lizzie rolls her eyes at that and plops down onto the bed heavily.

 

“No jokes, remember?”

 

Charlotte sighs and Lizzie hears shuffling on the other end and after a moment, Charlotte's voice sounds a little bit clearer.

 

“Okay, then...in all seriousness, I think he's putting it into his pocket to propose. The wedding's over and...it's January. There are some pretty special dates coming up...”

 

The words hang in the air for a moment and hearing them said aloud makes Lizzie's heart thud painfully. She tries to swallow but her mouth is dry and her tongue feels like sand paper. 

 

“Lizzie? What's going on? I thought you were ready for this...”

 

She lets herself fall back onto the bed and closes her eyes.

 

“I am.”

 

Charlotte waits for Lizzie to elaborate but she stays silent. 

 

“Lizzie, spit it out. I know there's something else going on.”

 

Lizzie opens one eye and squints against the light streaming in through the windows. She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly.

 

“Will and I got in a fight last night. A big one.”

 

She hears shuffling again and Charlotte sounds like she moved even closer to the phone.

 

“About what?”

 

Lizzie sighs and shakes her head at nothing in particular.

 

“Nothing. Everything? I don't even know. It's just...work has been kicking my ass lately and yesterday, one of my investors backed out and I just realized...I have employees now. A lot of them. If I fail, I not only fail myself but all of them. And I just wanted to drink too much wine and go to bed but Will kept making very reasonable suggestions and you know how I hate being reasonable sometimes...and he wanted to introduce me to some people and maybe invest himself and....ugh. At some point I started screaming at him that _this is not about you, this is about me!_ and he started accusing me of shutting him out and...it was bad. I didn't even see him this morning, he must've gotten up real early.”

 

Instead of a soothing reply from Charlotte, Lizzie can hear something distinctly resembling a snort.

 

“You know you're being dumb, right?”

 

Lizzie sits up so fast that her head starts spinning slightly.

 

“What?”

 

“Of course you're fighting about that. You have this notion that you have to do this all on your own, but guess what, Lizzie: Nobody does. And there's your boyfriend who has everything you need at his fingertips and you won't let him be part of it because you're too afraid anyone will think you only made it because of him. Of course he feels left out. And you will definitely have to talk that out but that's not what's dumb about this.”

 

Charlotte pauses for what Lizzie can only assume is dramatic effect and she rolls her eyes at her antics.

 

“Please, enlighten me, oh dearest Charlotte.”

 

“What's dumb is that you want to marry this man. And still you think one little fight might make him run for the hills. Lizzie, get it into your head that he's not going anywhere. You'll just have to learn to stick with it even if things get a little hard. And now go kiss and make up, I'm sure he's just as sorry as you are.”

 

Lizzie feels a grin tug at the corner of her lips. Good old Charlotte.

 

“You know I can hear you rolling your eyes at me, right?”

 

Charlotte snorts.

 

“Of course you can. I've been rolling my eyes at you your entire life.”

 

 

 

 

(Charlotte is right, of course. When Lizzie knocks on his office door at lunch with lasagna from his favorite Italian place as a peace offering, he practically jumps out of his chair to apologize to her.

 

“Lizzie, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that.”

 

Lizzie shakes her head at him and sits down on the fancy leather couch in the corner of his office, putting the take out containers onto the small table next to her.

 

“No, I'm sorry. You were right about a lot of things.”

 

Tentatively, he crosses the room to where she sits and sinks down next to her, their knees just barely touching.

 

“Sometimes, I still feel like I'm playing at being a businesswoman. And you are so good at it and you have so much experience and I'm afraid if I let you help, it won't feel like _my_ achievement anymore. I've been trying to prove that I can do it all on my own for a very long time and ... it's kinda hard to stop.”

 

William takes her hand and starts rubbing slow circles into her skin with his thumb.

 

“I'm sorry if I made you feel like I don't think you can do it. I really do. And I'll keep out of it from now on.”

 

Lizzie smiles slightly at him and bumps his knee with hers.

 

“But you shouldn't have to. You were right. I'm keeping a huge part of my life from you and it's not fair. And I shouldn't feel like I have to prove anything to you. We're a team now. We're equals. Right?”

 

His smile is enough of an answer and he snakes his arm around Lizzie's waist to pull her against his chest. 

 

“Right. And you know I didn't do it on my own either, right? Everybody needs help sometimes.”

 

Lizzie tilts her head back so she can look at him and grins.

 

“So I've heard. And I guess, since we're a team now and everything, you'll just have to tell me every tiny little secret of yours. And just so you know, in twenty years? I'll be kicking your ass.”

 

Silent laughter rumbles in his chest and he leans in close to whisper into her ear, making her shiver in the process:

 

“You're on.”

 

Lizzie stretches up to press a soft kiss to his lips and he catches her chin and cradles her tight against his chest, deepening the kiss.

 

And Lizzie briefly thinks that sticking with it might just be the secret to a long and happy life because _making up is pretty spectacular._ )

 

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_Because she might not be ready to say it all just yet, but she's ready to let him know he is allowed to start planning._

 

_So they play._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 

 

If it was just Charlotte, Lizzie might be able to laugh it off, but in the weeks leading up to Valentine's Day the texts and calls come so regularly that Lizzie is beginning to think there's some secret rotation scheme going on between her sisters and her best friend. 

Everybody seems adamant on getting Lizzie onto the same page: 

It's going to happen and it will be soon and _you better be ready._

 

So she thinks about the sheer panic she felt two years ago around this time and allows herself to do the things she didn't dare do back then.

She gets her nails done professionally for the first time in her life. (But she doesn't like how artificial they look, so she decides he'll just have to take her ugly nails and all and goes back the next day to make them take it off.) She practices her answer in the bathroom mirror. She spends hours picking out the perfect shoes.

 

On the day itself she comes home from work to a trio of text messages all wishing her good luck, puts on the new underwear she bought a few days ago and slips into something green and lacey that's bound to elicit a reaction from him. She takes her time pinning her hair to the side the way she knows he likes it, puts on the little pearl earrings he got her for 

their second anniversary and leaves her fingers naked.

 

She is starving by the time they finally pull up to the restaurant because she hasn't eaten since breakfast in anticipation of all the champagne and chocolate soufflés she is determined to get, so she might be little bit upset as she realizes where he is taking her.

 

It's a sushi place. And if she wasn't pretty sure William had absolutely no idea what everyone has been telling her to expect today, she would have thought he was teasing her. 

Because there's just no way he's going to propose to her with sake instead of champagne and raw fish driving along the counter in a model railway and so she reluctantly lets go of whatever hopes she had and settles in for a quiet evening of good food and relaxed conversation.

 

 

 

Of course after that, things only get worse.

With Valentine's out of the running, everyone is dead set on their three-year anniversary.

Jane keeps calling to make sure she's holding up okay and Lydia has repeatedly texted her with varying degrees of _I'll bet you a million dollars / Kitty / my first-born child that Darce is gonna do it on your b-day!!!!!_ and if Lizzie is being honest, seeing how she never would have thought he would ever manage to hold off this long when she first found the ring, so would she. 

So as the day approaches, she gets more nervous by the minute and the only thing keeping head out of the clouds is Charlotte irritatingly growing more and more silent on the matter as the days tick by.

 

Of course it becomes clear pretty quickly that Charlotte knew it wasn't going to happen when, instead of a ring, he presents her with a plane ticket to Los Angeles the second she opens her eyes on her birthday. 

And this may be the best gift he has ever gotten her and the fact that he is giving up their anniversary so she can have a whole day to celebrate with her bestie makes her love him even more, but her heart sinks a little nevertheless and she tries her hardest not to let it show on her face.

 

 

(She turns her phone off for three days after that.)

 

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_And sometimes, in the dead of night, when reason evades her and doubt seeps in, she fears that she might have hesitated a little too long._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 

“Sooo...how's Darceface doing?”

 

Lydia's voice is conspicuously casual and Lizzie wedges the phone in between her ear and her shoulder to take the teabag out of the water and mulls over which options she has. 

She knows her sisters have struck up a deal not to talk about anything proposal-related to her since she refused to take any calls from them for days on end after her birthday.

So she knows if she wants to talk about it, she will have to breach the subject on her own and she has barely made up her mind about whether she really wants to put herself at Lydia's mercy before she feels words bubbling out of her mouth:

 

“What if he's changed his mind? What if he doesn't want to marry me anymore?”

 

There's an almost triumphant screech from the other end of the line.

 

“At last, she talks!”

 

But Lizzie gnaws at her bottom lip nervously and Lydia knows her good enough now to read her silences as easily as her words, so she stops the squealing and sighs sympathetically.

 

“Lizzie, you're overreacting. Of course he hasn't changed his mind.”

 

“Then why hasn't he asked already?”

 

“He's probably just afraid he'll go all Darcy-bot on you and mess up all of his perfectly thought-out lines...”

 

She can hear Lydia giggling and feels a smile tug at her lips at the thought of William Darcy, master of the international phone conference, stumbling through a few simple words, but she knows it has happened before with her and there is endless proof of it on the internet, so she's not about to argue with that. 

 

“Maybe...”

 

She doesn't sound very convincing, so Lydia continues on:

 

“Okay, I know you don't wanna hear this and you're really the worst at it, but Lizzie, there's only one thing you can do: be patient. It's gonna happen. And if against all odds, he hasn't grown any balls until Christmas, I swear, I'm gonna kick his ass!”

 

 

…

 

 

And although it doesn't happen that week, or the one after that, a few weeks later, it becomes increasingly clear that there will be no ass-kicking necessary come Christmas.

 

Ever since she first realized the ring was gone, Lizzie has taken to methodically search William's dresser every day after work before he comes home and she has done so for over two months now to the same result (which is: still no ring) day on and day off, so it has become sort of an afterthought to her and when her thumb traces something hard, she needs a minute to process that something is different today.

 

Because there's a box nestled into the front pocket of his sweater. 

 

A box that hasn't been there for _months_ and Lizzie really hadn't expected to ever see it in its old hiding spot again. The blood rushing in her ears is deafening and she has to sit down onto the bed to make her heartbeat slow down enough to take a steadying breath and open the box.

 

There it is. Still beautiful as ever and looking exactly as she had remembered it. She gingerly takes the ring out of his bedding and holds it up into the light coming in through the bedroom windows. 

 

No, there is definitely something different about it. Shinier, possibly. So he had it cleaned? Well that shouldn't have taken him this long...

 

But Lizzie doesn't really care what he did with it, because it's _here_ and it still fits her. 

 

And William will be back any minute, so she slips the ring off her finger and puts it back into the box when something else catches her eye.

 

Something's different on the inside of the ring. Lizzie tilts it into the sun and squints her eyes to make it out.

 

There's a new inscription. 

 

Next to the date of his parents' engagement, there is something else engraved into the gold.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_May 5, 2016_

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. But I'm a sucker for cliffhangers and this was my last chance to do it, so...
> 
> As always, comments make my world go round, so please tell me what you did and didn't like :)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed! :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know I said there would only be one chapter left, but this got super long, so I'm splitting it.  
> But the rest is almost finished, so I hope I won't have to make you wait too long ;)  
> Enjoy! :)

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_May 5 dawns gloomy and gray._

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Lizzie has been up for hours and although there's a full day of work ahead of her, going back to sleep hasn't been an option from the second she opened her eyes and looked at the date on her alarm clock, because _this is the day_ and there's no way she is missing even one minute of it.

 

So she lays in the dark and watches the light change from black to a grayish blue and listens to the sounds of William snoring softly beside her. 

Carefully, so as not to disturb him, Lizzie rolls over onto her side and cranes her neck to look out at the clouds clinging to the sky, low and heavy with rain.

She has been checking the weather report for today obsessively these past few weeks and not once has there been any mention of even a single drop of rain, so she wonders briefly how on earth the sun is supposed to get through to give her the sunny day she was promised. 

Tearing her eyes away from the clouds that seem to be mocking her, she turns back over to watch William. He is sound asleep beside her and for a second, she is tempted to wake him up and just make him do it here and now, partly because she thinks the moment would be lovely in the quiet of early morning, but mostly because _the anticipation is killing her_. 

But he is looking so peaceful and she knows he has been waiting for her longer than she has been waiting for him, so she lets him sleep and tries her very best to be patient. 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, patience is not something that Lizzie Bennet has ever been particularly good at and whatever tiny ounce of it she might have someday possessed has been used up completely by waiting for this day to arrive, so in the early morning light, she finds herself with nothing left to tide her over these last few hours.

So instead of waiting for her alarm clock to ring, she turns it off and busies herself with trying to look her best for him today. She takes her time shaving her legs, puts on the new underwear from Valentine's Day he has yet to see, pins her hair up and takes extra care applying her make-up. She moves through the motions methodically and slowly and by the time every last hair is in place, William is already stirring in bed and she wanders over to kiss him good morning and tell him that breakfast will be ready shortly. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Two hours later, Lizzie is sitting in her office, watching the clouds roll across the sky and wonders if he still would have picked a weekday to do this if he had been free to choose any date at all, because as much as she hates waiting, she finds herself unable to do anything else. The words on her computer screen blur together whenever she chances a look at it and her employees seem intent on dragging her through the most boring meetings ever, so she really can't help it if her mind can't seem to focus on anything for longer than two minutes. 

Every phone call, every knock on the door makes her startle and there is just no way she will ever get anything productive done today, but she wants to keep pretending she is doing something other with her day than just counting the minutes, so when her secretary knocks to remind her about the meeting she is supposed to be at in five minutes, she calms her beating heart and tries to to put on a professional face.

 

 

 

 

 

Lunch time comes with a welcome distraction in the form of Gigi, who bounces into her office with two take-out containers in hand and a big grin on her lips at the look of surprise on Lizzie's face.

She hugs Lizzie hello and plops down onto the plush carpet on the floor, motioning for Lizzie to join her. 

 

“William mentioned you seemed kind of stressed lately, so I figured...maybe some girl talk and comfort food might cheer you up!”

 

Suddenly realizing that underneath all the anxiety, she is actually ravenous, Lizzie inspects the boxes curiously. Sure enough, besides Gigi's chicken caesar salad there is the vegetable lasagna from Pemberley Digital that has been sorely missed by Lizzie's taste buds for the last months and she briefly flashes Gigi a big grin before digging in.

 

“So what's going on? William doesn't ask his little sister to check up on his girlfriend for nothing...”

 

Gigi is looking at her expectantly and Lizzie stops mid-chew to shrug at her. At the sight of the Darcy eyebrow raise, she hurries to swallow to form a more sophisticated reply.

 

“Nothing really. Work has been a lot lately, but that's nothing new. I've just....been waiting for something and patience isn't really my strong suit, so...”

 

Not knowing how to finish that sentence, Lizzie trails off and goes back to shrugging her shoulders. 

 

“Can you tell me what it is you're waiting for?” 

 

Gigi seems intrigued and Lizzie is contemplating whether the younger Darcy sibling looks like she might be in on William's plan, but Gigi's face is nothing but open curiosity, so Lizzie refrains from potentially spilling secrets that aren't hers to tell.

 

“I don't think I can, actually.”

 

A look of disappointment briefly flashes over Gigi's face, but she puts on a smile fairly quickly.

 

“Fair enough. Can you tell me if it's something good?” 

 

The butterflies that have taken up permanent residence in Lizzie's stomach for the last three years come to life at the thought and she allows herself a full-blown grin.

 

“The best.”

 

And Gigi might not know what they are talking about, but she grins back at her anyhow.

 

There's a surge of sisterly feelings in Lizzie's chest and suddenly, she has the strongest urge to tell Gigi and see the glee spread over her face, so before she does anything she might regret later, she jumps at the first thing her mind can think of to say.

 

“I like your flower!”

 

Gigi looks up from her box, slightly confused at this sudden change of topic until she looks down to where a beautiful pink rose is stuck into the button hole of her blazer.

 

“Oh. Thanks.” 

 

Gigi smiles at her and Lizzie nods sheepishly, grappling at whatever could keep the conversation away from dangerous territory when Gigi saves her by volunteering additional information.

 

“You know what today is?”

 

And there's a weird look on her face that Lizzie can't quite decipher so the only thing she can come up with in the moment is a lame joke.

 

“Thursday?”

 

It seems to work though and the weird look is instantly replaced by a short burst of bell-like laughter.

 

“Yes, you dork, but that's not what I meant.”

 

And the look is firmly back in place as quickly as it had vanished.

 

“Today...would have been the thirty-fifth anniversary of my parents' engagement.”

 

Not knowing how to respond to that, Lizzie reaches out to squeeze Gigi's hand. Gigi gives her a small smile and her face opens up to Lizzie. The dominant emotion is an obvious one. Gigi is sad. But there is also something softening the sadness in Gigi's eyes and Lizzie thinks that it might be nostalgia and the remembrance of happier times. 

 

“My dad was a big old sap, you know. For his proposal, he took my mom up to the vacation house on the shore where they spend their first summer together and he hid the ring in the blossom of a big pink rose, which is totally cheesy, but you know...my mom liked it. And to top off the cheesiness of it all, after they got married, each year on May 5, he would give her a pink rose for every year they had been engaged.”

 

There are tears glistening at the corner of Gigi's eyes and Lizzie holds her hand a little tighter and whispers:

 

“That bouquet would have been huge this year...”

 

Gigi giggles a little and wipes at her eyes.

 

“Yeah, I don't think he thought that all the way through...But it was a nice tradition and my mom loved him for his mushiness. And then once, when I was five I think, I stole some of her flowers because I was having a tea party for my stuffed animals and I wanted to decorate the table with them...and I thought Mom would get really mad at me, but instead she took one of her brooches and pinned a rose to my sweater so I would look pretty for my party as well...because that's the kind of person she was ... After that, Mom would always give me one of her roses. Every year.”

 

“That's nice.”

 

Gigi nods and smiles shakily at Lizzie.

 

“Yeah, it really was. And then...after...I think William couldn't stand to see me sad over yet another tradition lost, so that first May he went out to buy me a single pink rose just like my mom's. And as you can see, it's been over ten years and he hasn't stopped.”

 

And Lizzie really didn't think it was possible to love this big sap of a man any more than she already did, but she looks at Gigi smiling bravely through her tears and finds that she can. 

 

“He's pretty cheesy as well, isn't he?”

 

Gigi snorts with laughter and there's a little bit of snot coming out of her nose, but neither of them cares about trivial things like that right now.

 

“The cheesiest. So you better get used to it.”

 

They share a knowing smile and Lizzie winks at Gigi.

 

“Trust me, I already am.”

 

And although Lizzie is pretty confident that Gigi does not know about her brother's plans, (because Gigi Darcy is many things, but subtle has never been one of them) Lizzie feels that she couldn't have shared a more fitting story. Lizzie's heart stutters a bit as she thinks about how much it must mean for William to pick this particular date. 

And even if this becomes _their_ day, she is glad that amidst all of it, William will never stop being a big brother and this day will always be about him and Gigi and their parents as well. 

 

 

…

 

 

After Gigi leaves, there's nothing more to do than wait until it's time to go home. 

Lizzie tries rearranging her post-its by color, but there's only so much you can do with yellow, orange and pink, so it proves to be a pretty futile attempt at passing the time. 

She stares at the blur on her computer a little more. She walks up and down the corridor to see if there's anyone willing to distract her, but there is not. She watches the rain slide down her window and draws tiny hearts on the glass with her finger. She drinks four cups of tea and goes to the bathroom approximately twenty-six times. 

And actual work is not an option, her new underwear is scratchy and she is bored out of her mind, so as soon as the clock nears five, she is off into the rain.

 

 

 

There are no plans for the night that Lizzie is aware of, so she has no idea what to expect. As she stands in front of their apartment door, she takes a minute or two to slow her breathing and try to arrange her face into a careful mask of relaxed unknowingness. 

When she opens the door at last, she can hear him whistling in the kitchen and catches a whiff of something smelling delicious. 

 

He's standing with his back to her, stirring something on the stove and there's a glass of chilled white wine already waiting for her on the counter. She gratefully picks the glass up and takes a big sip, feeling the alcohol wash away some of the day's stress. She walks up behind him and presses a kiss between his shoulder blades. 

Without turning around or stopping the stirring, he cradles one of her hands on his chest in his.

 

“How was your day?”

 

Lizzie exhales into his sweatshirt and shrugs a shoulder.

 

“Much better now. Something smells fabulous. What are you making?”

 

His chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles her forehead pressed against his shirt.

 

“You are barely standing a foot from the stove, you could just _look,_ you know...”

 

She shakes her head into his back and hums sleepily.

 

“Too comfy.”

 

“It's risotto with asparagus and lemon.”

 

She hums appreciatively once more and slides under his arm to nestle herself into the crook there so she can press a kiss to the underside of his chin.

 

“You perfect man.”

 

He takes his eyes off the pot on the stove, but continues stirring and kisses her softly on the lips.

 

“I try my best.”

 

 

…

 

 

So _maybe_ Lizzie was expecting some sort of big night out with fancy clothes and dishes she doesn't even know how to pronounce in her mind while reading them, but as they sit around the kitchen island sipping wine and eating risotto, this feels like any other day and she thinks she might like that. 

Lizzie has never been exactly comfortable with grand gestures and even if she would have loved whatever he decided to do, she is a bit relieved that she won't have to love it in a public space. 

Besides, a public restaurant would just mean there would have to be restraint in the mandatory consecutive jumping of the fiance and as she sits there watching him lick some risotto from his upper lip, Lizzie feels like this is definitely not a night for restraint. 

 

 

…

 

 

After dinner, William excuses himself to change out of his work clothes and as Lizzie brings their wine glasses over to the small coffee table and makes herself comfortable on the couch, she can't help but wonder how all of this is going to play out. She had been expecting bowties and candlelight and champagne, but this is rapidly starting to look more like movies and sweatpants.

She briefly wonders if maybe she should get rid of this stupid flimsy underwear that has her adjusting it every few minutes, when William steps back into the room.

Granted, he is not wearing sweatpants but fitted blue jeans and if Lizzie is being honest, she's not entirely sure he even possesses anything resembling sweatpants, but he _is_ wearing something similarly informal.

 

An old gray college sweater. 

 

If Lizzie remembers correctly, this particular piece of clothing has featured prominently in her dreams as of late and her heart gives a painful little squeeze at the sight of it before taking off on a wild sprint. 

She is frozen in her spot on the couch, wine glass halfway to her mouth and breathing shallow and rapid.

William smiles at her briefly before arranging his face into a somber expression.

He takes a few steps towards her and stops just at the end of the couch.

 

“Lizzie”, he begins low and serious, “you know I love you with all of my heart...” 

 

And _this is it ,_ so Lizzie tries her best to look somewhat composed and maybe even manage a little encouraging smile for his benefit, but her breathing is really loud and her heart keeps hammering in her ears and suddenly she is very afraid that she might miss the part where she is supposed to participate if he doesn't abandon the sexy smoldering voice and _speaks up_ very soon. She is still holding her glass mid-air and her hand has started to shake, but putting the glass down might break his concentration and make him forget what he is about to do, so her hand stays exactly where it is and Lizzie doesn't move an inch. 

 

“...and I'm about to show you just how much.”

 

He steadily holds her gaze, a small smile on his lips, as he reaches into the front pocket of his sweater.

 

And Lizzie might have died and gone up to heaven in the short span of two seconds, because her mind doesn't seem to be able to put words to what she is seeing.

 

Because whatever it is that William has just produced from his pocket, it is definitely not a ring. 

 

“Because I will gladly sit through Star Wars for you for the rest of my life if it means making you smile.”

 

For a heart-wrenching moment, Lizzie doesn't know whether to laugh or scream, because her heart has stopped beating and all air has left her lungs, but then an impish smile spreads across William's face and the mirth in his eyes makes him look years younger. 

And he seems so proud of himself for knowing how to make her happy that an unbidden smile tugs at Lizzie's lips and she can feel laughter bubble up inside of her almost instantly.

 

“How is that proving your love?! You love that movie nearly as much as I do!” 

 

Lizzie is going for indignant, but William is flopping onto the couch in such an uncharacteristically relaxed manner that she can't bring herself to mind.

 

He raises an eyebrow at her and smiles slowly. “Or do I?”

 

He has placed her legs over his lap and is tracing circles on her naked shin and at the smug look on his face, Lizzie scoffs and hits him on the upper arm playfully.

 

“William Darcy, do not tell me you have been lying to me since the very first days of our relationship?!”

 

William doesn't seem at all perturbed by her indignation and catches her punching hand in his, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

 

“Well, I believe I had no real choice in the matter. I remember distinctly that you told me they were the only movies you still had on VHS and since the media equipment in your den left quite a lot to desire...it was either that or watching television with your parents and your little sister.”

 

Lizzie's eyes are still narrowed suspiciously at him and he leans in until he is mere inches from her lips, his breath hot on her skin. 

 

“Plus, it meant hours and hours of you pressed up against me on your tiny couch. I have to admit, I have almost no recollection at all as to what was happening on the TV screen that night.”

 

Her face flushes at the admission even after three years, so she grabs him by the collar of his sweater and tugs his lips back down to hers.

And although this is all fun and games, some big emotion simmers just under the surface of his kiss and it makes Lizzie's stomach clench with excitement over what the evening is yet to bring. 

 

 

As he puts in the DVD and they wait for the menu to load, she thinks of something else.

 

“So, wait, I get why you watched the first film with me...but we also watched _The Empire strikes back_ and that was here, so you can't blame it on not wanting to watch with my parents...so what was that about?”

 

He is kneeling in front of the DVD player with his back to her and she can almost make out the flush creeping up his neck. He turns towards her with a sheepish smile on his face.

 

“Well all of this was still pretty new and you were so excited that I presumably shared your love for the films...I didn't want to disappoint. Also, I've found that I quite enjoy watching you react to it”, he explains and flashes her a big grin as he finally gets the movie to play and moves to sit down next to her again.

 

Lizzie nestles herself into the crook of his arm and pats him on the knee placatingly.

 

“Well then, watch away...”

 

“Oh trust me, I will. And I'm actually really glad you know now. That way I won't have to be quiet anymore.”

 

Lizzie sits up and raises an eyebrow at him questioningly.

 

“Be quiet about what?”

 

“For one...the hilariously disastrous special effects, the talking teddy bears and...well, your swooning over Han Solo. Not to mention dismissing poor Luke completely just because you think Han is “super hot”, to quote you directly, even though anyone with eyes can see Leia loves Luke, not Han.”

 

And William Darcy is not one to rant, so this speaks volumes about the years he had to restrain himself for mocking Lizzie's favorite movies and there's a moment of stunned silence while Lizzie sits there, staring at him open-mouthed. 

 

“Okay, I'm gonna ignore _most_ of that, because this is a cinematographic masterpiece and if you insist on mocking it, Mister, you are out of here faster than you can say Chewbacca...”

 

“You can't kick me out of my own home!”

 

“...but one thing: Because of the ridiculousness of your former statement, I assume you have never seen _Return of the Jedi_ so I will hold off on the mocking until after you have this whole Luke debacle thrown into your face, but be warned: I'm already queuing smart-ass comebacks in my head right now, so...you will be _ashamed_ you ever even thought something like that!”

 

William looks slightly taken aback by the intensity of Lizzie's retort, so she smiles at him sweetly and pats his hand. Before he can get another word in, the infamous opening crawl starts and the Star Wars theme starts playing.

With a finger to his chin, Lizzie redirects William to face the TV and shushes him.

 

“Eyes on the screen, Mister. You are in for a treat.”

 

 

…

 

Roughly two and a half hours later, William is appropriately ashamed and Lizzie is positively gloating with triumph. 

 

“I told you you would be embarrassed.”

 

“Well how was I supposed to know? This was just like “Luke, I am your father” all over again! Completely out of left field! I mean, they could have alluded to it somewhere in the previous six hours!”

 

Lizzie giggles at the way his arms keep flailing and his face has big red splotches of agitation on it.

 

“They _did_! It was creepy all the way, Will, I don't get how anybody _ever_ shipped Leia and Luke!”

 

“Of course you don't. I can _see_ you drooling over Harrison Ford, you know?”

 

Giggling, Lizzie buries her face in his chest. The soft fabric of his old sweater feels cool and soothing against her hot skin.

 

“I'm sorry. If it's any consolation....Harrison Ford is way too old for me now.”

 

She flashes him a big wicked grin and he dives down to press a quick kiss to her lips. 

 

“Well I will remember that from now on the appropriate response to an _I love you_ will be an arrogant, snobbish _I know._ ”

 

Lizzie can't help the snort of laughter that escapes her and winks at him.

 

“Oh, so you _do_ remember some of the other movies! And also, that scene is super hot.”

 

William scoffs and pecks her on the forehead.

 

“I know. You made me watch it three times.”

 

Lizzie just shrugs and snuggles closer into William's chest.

 

“For the record, I don't think girls would actually appreciate such a response in reality...”

 

Lizzie just sighs contentedly and pats William on the knee.

 

“Let it go, big boy. Rational arguments are never going to make me get over Han. But...” and she cranes her neck to place a lingering kiss on his lips, “I'm pretty happy with what I got instead.”

 

William seems content with that answer and they keep snuggling on the couch while the DVD returns to the main menu, playing the same piece of music over and over again.

 

 

When Lizzie's eyelids start to droop, she realizes it must have gotten really late. 

She chances a look at the clock on the mantle next to the TV. 

 

It's 11.27.

 

If he is actually planning on proposing on this day, he better do it soon or there will have to be serious work done on the ring. 

Lizzie's heart picks up the pace at the thought and suddenly she feels really squeamish. Her toes start to prickle and she has to ball her hands into fists to restrain herself from biting her nails. 

She can feel William's heartbeat against her cheek where she is lying on his chest and it is quite slow and steady for someone who has about thirty minutes for the biggest question of his life.

 

Is there any way she read this wrong? 

 

The inscription was definitely real. She can distinctly remember the feel of the grooves against the tip of her finger while tracing it. 

 

No, she did not read this wrong. Maybe he just has to gather his courage.

 

Yes, she decides, that's it and she tries to keep calm and not focus on the ticking of the clock too much.

 

It gets really hard when the clock reaches 11.35.

 

She holds out another few minutes, but the tickling in her toes is driving her mad and her fingers have started tapping away the seconds on her thigh and her heart is thumping really hard now and it's eleven _freaking_ forty and she is up on her feet before she even registers moving a finger.

 

“It's almost a quarter to midnight! What the hell are you waiting for?!”

 

William is up out of his seat almost as quickly as she was and Lizzie is beginning to suspect he was not entirely surprised by her outburst when his lips slowly curl upwards in the goofiest grin she has ever seen on him.

 

“I thought you'd never ask.”

 

And without even a glance back to where she is rooted to the spot in shock, he turns and heads for the door to the balcony. Lizzie is left speechless by this sudden turn of events and stands there with her mouth agape because _shouldn't that be her line tonight?_ and William is halfway out the door when he turns to her and holds out a hand.

 

“You coming?”

 

Her feet start moving of their own accord at the sight of his outstretched hand and his eyes are laughing as he is pulling her through the door and upon stepping out onto the deck, it only takes her a second to get it.

 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

_William Darcy is teasing her._

 

_\------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So next time will ACTUALLY 1000 % be the proposal. I apologize once again.  
> Also, sorry I geeked out a bit with the whole Star Wars thing, it just kinda popped into my head and I couldn't NOT write it. (Also, I've had different versions of this conversation quite a few times, so...)  
> If anyone doesn't know what they are talking about... I think you have some movies to watch :)
> 
> Once again, thanks to everyone who is reading and leaving kudos and commenting. You guys rock and I don't think I would have finished this without all the encouragement, so thank you. You are the best.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it.  
> I hope it gets somewhere near what you were expecting :)  
> Enjoy! :)

At some point between white wine and arguing over Han Solo, the rain that has been bothering Lizzie all day must have stopped, because as she steps out into the cool night, the air is crisp and the sky is clear.

The city is glittering beneath them and every once in a while, a droplet drips from the orange tree in the corner and twinkles in the lights of the city.

 

There is a table with two chairs in the middle of the deck and if dessert was suspiciously absent from their earlier dinner, Lizzie now knows why.

Next to a bottle of champagne in a cooler and some candles that have yet to be lit, the table is set with two plates carrying the most perfect looking chocolate soufflés and now that she knows he is teasing her, the symbolism of it makes her erupt into giggles. 

Getting here has certainly been a challenge.

 

 

Draped across one of the plates is a single rose with a plump pink blossom and the sight sobers her up almost instantly. It makes her heart clench with sadness and love for this wonderful man who has had to lose so much and is still ready to give her his all in a heartbeat and her eyes well up before even a single word has been uttered. Seeming to sense her state of mind, William comes up beside her and takes her hand firmly in his. Together they stand silently watching the scene before them and revel in the feeling that the moment is here and, _finally_ , after endless months of going back and forth, they have come together on the same page.

 

“How did you know?”

 

Lizzie's voice is heavy with tears unshed and it cracks a little on the last word.

 

William squeezes her hand lightly to get her to look at him and smiles softly.

 

“How did I know what?”

 

“ThatI knew about the ring. You were obviously waiting for me to crack back there”, she mumbles with a slight smiles and inclines her head back towards the living room.

 

William chuckles and faces the sky for a moment.

 

“Well, you were never really the....most tidy person I know. And after weeks of pointless rearranging of my shirts only to have all of my efforts shattered in a matter of days...”

 

“It was not that bad! You are just stupidly obsessed with right angles!”

 

“...I kind of figured something was going on. But I didn't really figure it out until a few days after Gigi's birthday. Do you remember that?” 

 

Lizzie purses her lips as she racks her brain for where she could have slipped up, but comes up empty.

 

“Yeah...?”

 

“I think you made blueberry muffins. Well, Miss Tidy, imagine my surprise when I found a trace of baking soda on my mother's ring two days later.”

 

Lizzie feels her cheeks grow warm and shuffles her feet uncomfortably.

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah. Also there was this one time when I got home to you sleeping on the couch _with the ring_ on!” he chuckles and grins smugly at her widening eyes. “So, that was a rather big clue.”

 

Completely mortified, Lizzie lets out a groan and slaps a hand over her mouth.

 

“Oh no, you didn't!”

 

“Yes, I did. And I was really tempted to see the look on your face should I wake you, but by then I already knew what was going on, so I thought...having a little fun with it and making you squirm would be a much sweeter revenge.”

 

He can barely hold in his grin and Lizzie scoffs at him and thumps him in the chest.

 

“So you _were_ teasing me!” she exclaims and the knowledge doesn't help with the flush that burns her face. “Before, with the movie?”

 

William cocks his head to the side and shrugs his shoulders.

 

“Well that was too easy to pass up.”

 

“Sending me to Charlotte's on our anniversary? Sushi on Valentine's? _Chocolate soufflés?_ ”

 

William is outright laughing at her disbelief now and he takes her hand to draw her to his side and cradle her close.

 

“Most of it. Although I didn't really get the significance of the soufflés until somebody clued me in on it...”, he admits. “I'm sorry there was only raw fish at Valentine's.”

 

He leans in for a kiss, but Lizzie puts a finger to his lips to stop him.

 

“Who?”

 

He pouts a little against her finger but his cheeks are tinged pink.

 

“Does it matter?”

 

She narrows her eyes at him and puts her free hand on her hip in petulance.

 

“Well if I'm being ratted out by my closest friends, I demand to know names!”

 

William remains silent, but the tips of his ears are flaming red and somehow, Lizzie just knows from the look on his face.

 

“Lydia? Really?”

 

He seems to realize he won't be getting a kiss anytime soon, so he leans back a bit and sighs.

 

“Nobody ratted anyone out. It just came up.”

 

“It came up in a conversation that I had found your ring and was waiting for you to propose and also that I now weirdly associate you proposing with chocolate soufflés in a way? _How?_ ”

 

He narrows his eyes and takes a moment because he wants to answer her honestly, but in the end he just reverts to shrugging his shoulders.

 

“I honestly don't know. It just...did.”

 

Lizzie groans again and returns to the circle of his arms and presses her face into his shirt so that the reply comes out muffled.

 

“You two are really starting to scare me. Ganging up on me with your sister-in-law is not fair!”

 

The words roll off her tongue so naturally that Lizzie only realizes she has said anything out of the ordinary when William's heartbeat picks up underneath her cheek. 

She extricates herself from his arms so she can see his face. He is concentrating intensely on the night sky and Lizzie softly tugs at his hand to make him look at her. When he finally does, she manages a somewhat encouraging smile even though her heart is in her throat and her stomach is doing flip-flops.

 

_This is it._

 

 

William throws her a small wavering smile and smooths his hand over the front of his sweater.

 

“My mother gave me this sweatshirt, did you know that?”

 

Not trusting her voice, Lizzie just shakes her head mutely.

 

“I had just made my college's diving team and she was so proud of me. That was about three months before - …”, he pauses and swallows visibly. “It was the last gift she ever gave me.”

 

His voice wavers a bit and he clears his throat quickly. Lizzie smooths her hand up and down along his upper arm in what she hopes translates as a comforting gesture.

 

“I'm so sad I never got to meet them.”

 

William nods and smiles wistfully.

 

“Me too. My mom would have loved you so much”, he tells her and a small smile ghosts over his lips. “For making me brave.”

 

His voice is steady now and she knows he does not want this evening to be sad, so she smiles at him even through the tears that are choking her. 

 

“And my dad...”

 

He seems to remember something and a short little laugh bursts out of him and lingers in the air around them.

 

When he looks up at her, his eyes are shining but the smile on his face is radiant.

 

“My dad would have adored you. For your wit. Your intelligence. And for challenging me every day. He probably would have asked me what the hell took me so long. I can practically hear him in my head”, and he lowers his voice to intone: “ _If I were you, I would have married that girl on the spot three years ago!”_

 

And she knows they are both thinking the same thing, but she waits for him to be ready to say it and squeezes his hand encouragingly.

 

“And I would have, too.”

 

His voice is a whisper and he can only hold her gaze for a second before he has to look away.

 

And he looks so vulnerable, even now, even after all of this and Lizzie can't help the tears from spilling over as she strokes his thumb to make him look at her.

 

“I know you would have. That's why I love you _so much_ for waiting.”

 

Lizzie's voice is wavering and cracked and full of emotions and talking through her tears is almost impossible, but she feels she owes him this much at least. 

 

“But you can stop now”, she sighs and tries for a smile. “No more waiting.”

 

It takes a moment for her words to get through to him, but when they do, they seem to invigorate him and the smile he throws her quickens her heartbeat and makes her palms sweat.

 

He puts a hand inside the pocket of his sweatshirt and they both know this time it's not a trick, so he unceremoniously pulls out the ring box and presents it to her on his flat palm.

 

Lizzie feels like her lungs might burst and she is glad that she is not the one supposed to find her voice right now. She looks up from the box to stare into William's eyes and the love she sees there makes her knees go weak. 

 

They stand in silence for a while, soaking up the serenity of the moment. 

Now that it is only a matter of minutes, neither of them is intent on rushing ahead. 

 

William finally lets go of her hand to open up the box and gingerly picks up the ring. He looks at it in the moonlight and smiles warmly.

 

His voice is quiet and almost reverent in the still of the night:

 

“When I was a teenager, I was painfully shy”, he begins and tilts his head to smile at her. “Even more so than I am now. While my friends were going on dates and asking girls to the prom, I was at home reading a book or looking after Gigi. When my mother asked me why I never went to school dances, I used to tell her that asking a girl out made me feel stupid. And you know there is little that I hate more than feeling stupid.”

 

He smirks at her because he knows full well that he is stating the obvious and Lizzie smiles at him lovingly.

 

“My mom would always tell me that one day, I would meet a girl and she would be worth feeling stupid for once in a while”, he continues and throws her a tiny smile. “Of course I never believed her, but she would insist upon it anyway.”

 

He stares out over the city for a moment, clearly lost in memories. When he finds her eyes again, he seems somber.

 

“Then one year, there was this girl I had wanted to go to a dance with, but I had chickened out of asking her at the last minute and instead, one of my friends ended up going with her. I was devastated of course.”

 

His face is slightly pained at the memory and Lizzie finds his hand again, intertwining her fingers with his.

 

“So when I told my mom, she did something that I found ridiculous at the time. She told me when I finally met that special girl, I should hold on to her forever because _being stupid is what makes life beautiful.”_

 

And Lizzie's heart gives a squeeze because she might have suspected it for quite some time, but this makes her know for certain that she would have loved the wise woman who has brought this imperfect, vulnerable man into the world and taught him to love. 

 

“And she was really afraid that I would let fear hold me back from being happy in life. So she told me that when the day came and I had found the woman I wanted to be stupid with for the rest of my life, she would give me her ring – this ring – so I wouldn't find a reason to chicken out again.”

 

He holds the ring up into the air and examines it closely for a moment. Then he looks back down to her and smiles.

 

“You know what convinced me not to give up after I watched 59 videos of you mocking me endlessly?”

 

And Lizzie feels like the ground should open and swallow her up right now, because _of course_ they have to talk about her videos in what should be a moment of unadulterated joy.

 

“Gigi called me after she watched your videos and because I was not answering phones around that time, she left a voicemail”, he tells her. “I have it memorized, mostly because it's pretty short but also because I kept coming back to it quite a lot in the following months.”

 

He takes a moment to smile at her and Lizzie has to concentrate really hard to keep her mind from flashing on the picture of him in a newsie hat with a flower stuck to it because he is preparing to quote Gigi Darcy and this is _not_ the moment to burst out laughing.

 

“She said: _William, I saw Lizzie's videos. I think it's time to get Mom's ring._ “

 

William strokes the back of her hand with his thumb and there are tears pricking at Lizzie's eyes, because Gigi, _sweet wonderful Gigi,_ has been fighting for her since before there was anything to fight for and if she didn't already love that big goofball of a girl with all of her heart, she certainly would now. 

 

“Wow. I might have to thank her again.”

 

The tears are leaking out of her eyes freely now and William smiles at her and reaches out a thumb to wipe them away.

 

“Yeah, me too. Sometimes, she is really wise for her age.”

 

They grin at each other for a second, because sometimes, Gigi is also really childish for her age and it makes her the perfect younger sister to a brother who has always been old even when he was still a child. 

 

 

“Back then, she could see what I couldn't. That I was letting fear make decisions for me”, he mutters and looks down at his shoes briefly. “And that I obviously didn't care how stupid I looked when I was with you which, as Gigi has pointed out to me on several occasions, was a first for me.”

 

“Oh shush, you never looked stupid”, Lizzie counters and presses a quick kiss to the underside of his chin.

 

“That's very generous of you, but I think your videos beg to differ.”

 

She buries her face in his sweater and grumbles something that sounds an awful lot like _Damn those videos!_ and William nudges her with his arm to make her look at him.

 

“But that's not the point. The point is that you may have found the ring...maybe six months ago...”

 

“Two years, actually...”, Lizzie acquiesces and bites her lip slightly as William's eyes widen in surprise.

 

“Wow. That's ...wow. Long.”

 

Lizzie smiles at him apologetically: “Sorry?”

 

He shakes his head and kisses her apology away. Then, with a slight cough and a raise of his eyebrow, he starts anew:

 

“What I was trying to say, before you interrupted me...”

 

And he can see she is trying to interrupt again, so he raises a second eyebrow to silence her.

 

“You may have found the ring...two years ago”, he starts and the look he throws her makes her stomach flutter in anticipation, “But it has been yours for so much longer. Because, Lizzie Bennet, I have never felt stupid as much as I did that first year after we met.”

 

He grins at her and a giggle escapes her throat. 

 

“But I didn't care then and I don't care now. Because it changed me and it made me become a better person. A person worthy of your love. And that is the only thing that matters to me.”

 

His voice is steady and strong where Lizzie is trembling and teary and she feels like if it weren't for his firm hand in hers, she would already be lying on the floor in a quivering heap. 

 

“I didn't get my mother's ring right away. It didn't feel right when you still hated me”, he continues softly. “But you came to Pemberley and it gave me a chance to make things right, so I had to remind myself not to chicken out again. And it wasn't until I held my mother's ring in my hands and thought about her words, that I realized something within me had changed.”

 

He pauses for a second and Lizzie's heart stutters at the intensity of his gaze.

 

“Because when I thought about you, for the first time in my life, I thought about _you_ first and about me second.”

 

The air is still and everything is silent except for the quiet sound of Lizzie's sniffling. She can barely see for the curtain of tears, but even blurry, William's smile is luminous and it keeps her tethered to the moment.

 

“I realized my mother had been right all along. And Gigi had been the first to see it. Because I loved you _so much_ that I didn't care if I made a fool of myself or got rejected or if you hit me in the face, because the only thing that mattered was that I loved you and that you knew that.”

 

His voice is barely a whisper now.

 

“And if you didn't love me back, that would be okay because you would be happy and I would have tried.”

 

The tears are clogging her throat so it takes her a moment to regain her ability to speak and even then it comes out croaky and cracked and imperfect:

 

“I do love you back. So much. And you know I never would have hit you in the face. I'm way too tiny for it.”

 

She giggles through her tears and he chuckles and leans down to press a soft kiss to her lips.

 

“I know.”

 

And there's a moment where he seems to gather his courage and there's a tiny crack in his calm exterior because the deep breath he takes shudders a bit and his voice has a slight quiver to it when he starts:

 

“This day always makes me think of family. And I think mine has been a party of two for far too long. I know Gigi already sees you as a sister, but please let me make it official.”

 

And Lizzie has to remind herself to take deep steady breaths because he is really doing this and her heart is hammering so erratically in her chest that she's afraid she might actually pass out. 

 

“Lizzie Bennet”, he starts softly and he is stroking her thumb and there are wrinkles around his eyes from smiling too much and she focuses on these little things that keep her in the moment, “you have brightened my life and brought so much joy into this little family that has been nothing but sad for so long. You make me want to be a better man and you make me want to do stupid things just because life is too short.”

 

He throws her a grin that seems to say _here we go_ and without any conscious effort on her part, Lizzie feels her lips tug into a smile at the sight.

 

“I love you more than I ever thought I could love someone and there is no-one I would rather spend my life with, so please, will you be my wife?”

 

And she has known that this is where they would end up ever since that fateful day when she needed a piece of him to feel comforted, but hearing him actually say the words makes something snap inside her and she starts trembling as the words fight their way outside through the tears clogging her throat and clouding her vision.

 

“Yes. Yesyesyes. Of course.”

 

Her heart has stopped beating and all air is gone from her lungs, but he is there, big and strong and radiating happiness and he snatches her up into his arms and crushes her to his chest. She is still whispering words of consent into his shoulder and she feels a wetness where his face is buried in her neck and suddenly, they are both laughing madly through their tears.

 

And his sweater is covered in snot and tears where she lays her head and it is slowly starting to drizzle again and the candles are forgotten on the table, still unlit and it is almost certainly past midnight at this point and they are wet and cold and tired, but as William's lips find hers blindly and the taste of his tears mingles with her own, this is the beginning of the rest of their lives together and nothing has ever felt more perfect.

 

 

 

 

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_And the ring slides onto her finger with ease and the metal is smooth and cool and soothing against her burning skin and William kisses her reverently as he feels for the band with his fingertips over and over and over again._

 

_And it feels like coming home._

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it, you guys! I finished! :)  
> When I started this thing, I was actually convinced that it would just be three chapters and finished in a few days...and now here we are, several weeks and 80 pages of text later and I can't remember the last time I wrote this much in such a short span of time. And it is all because of YOU! Your comments and Kudos and just the fact that I knew someone was interested in this, made me keep writing and reimagining and striving to make this as best as I could. So a big huge thanks to all of you :) This would not be what it is without you.  
> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. It was a blast :)

**Author's Note:**

> So, this kinda happened.   
> I didn't actually have any plans to keep on writing after "Paint my spirit gold", but you people were all so unbelievably lovely about it, I just couldn't NOT write more.  
> So, obviously, knowing anyone out there is interested in it makes the writing go so much faster (and makes me grin like a lunatic FOR DAYS), so concrit and reviews are highly appreciated! :)
> 
> I hope I could make this monday a tiny bit more bearable :)  
> (And fear not, there will be fluff! ;) )


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